Subterfuge
by liketheriver
Summary: The team suffers separation anxiety, Sheppard gets whumped by the Genii, and McKay MacGyvers a bomb out of an MRE. (Complete)
1. Separation Anxiety

_RATING:T for language, violence that might get a little nasty and other adult situations._

_SEASON: First season somewhere, after The Storm/Eye and before Brotherhood. I know, that's a big gap, but you choose._

_MAJOR CHARACTERS: McKay, Sheppard, Ford and Teyla. Beckett will eventually show his snarky face._

_CATEGORY: Action/angst/humor- you name it, it has it._

_SUMMARY: The team suffers separation anxiety, Sheppard gets whumped by the Genii, and McKay MacGyvers a bomb out of an MRE. WIP (gasps and shocked awe allowed.)_

_SPOILERS: Oh, there are a few hints here and there but nothing gets spoiled except maybe Underground and The Storm/Eye. But anything prior to Brotherhood is fair game._

_FEEDBACK: Yes, please. I thrive on it and so do the bunnies._

_DISCLAIMER: I don't own them. If I did, they would not be allowed to go on hiatus._

_NOTES: This is not one of my POV stories as those are on hold until the new season starts because I don't want them to become AU. I swore to myself that I would never do WIP, but of course three months ago I swore I would never go back to writing fanfiction. 7+ stories later, here I am. I know what I said, Anna, but as you can see, I lie to myself regularly. I consider this a challenge for a nonlinear writer like myself to see if I can write myself out of any plot corners I may write myself into. Still, I do promise that this will not go on forever- three parts at most and I hope to update regularly. Also, I took some liberties with creating past history for John, just snippets since very little has ever been revealed about his backstory. They are all created by my sick little mind, so in all SGA reality, they are probably AU. Deal with it! Finally, since I don't have any new episodes to use for inspiration, I have turned to the dictionary as you can see from this title and my last story 'Redux'. If you have any good words, drop me line at my email address in my profile and I'll see what pops into my head._

_ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: This story has not been Beta-ed, mainly because I don't have one. So, all mistakes are mine. Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed my other stories- this is all your fault. Other than that, I blame the damnable bunnies! _

**Subterfuge**

**by liketheriver**

**sub•ter•fuge**(sub't_u_r-fy**OO**j), _noun._ A deceptive device or stratagem.

_**Chapter1: Separation Anxiety**_

_Day-Glo green_, John thought as he scanned the crowd with an anxious eye. He would trade his stash of miniature Baby Ruth bars and the DVD of internet porn he had won off of Bates in a pick up poker game for a single astrophysicist-sized shirt in Day-Glo green. Reflective stripping would have been nice as well, given the lighting or lack there of. His gaze skimmed across the sea of people searching for a spot of blue that would indicate McKay, but the mob was moving too frantically in an all out panic to discern one lone scientist in the flickering iridescent street lamps.

He keyed his earpiece, "McKay, do you copy?"

"Major, where are you?" the voice was urgent and slightly winded, so that he could almost hear the unspoken 'thank God' preceding the question.

"Near the entrance to the amphitheater." He had managed to push his way out of the masses and squeeze into a small breezeway just outside the building so that the crush of people was passing him by instead of pulling him along. McKay, evidently, had not been so lucky. "How about you?"

"Uh,…I'm not really sure. Hey, stop touching me!"

"McKay?"

"I'm kind of moving with the mob. Not like I have much choice. Watch it!"

"Do you recognize anything?"

"Ouch! Yes, panic and chaos, and a healthy lack of respect for personal space. Damnit, keep your elbows to yourself!"

He let out a sigh. If only he could dress him in Day-Glo green he would be able to keep sight of him and not have to have this conversation. Sure it wouldn't work well for covert operations, but the thought of Rodney and covert in the same sentence was ridiculous to begin with; his mouth would give away their position long before they were spotted by potentially hostile forces, so it really didn't matter. "Any landmarks look familiar?" he asked with pained patience.

"No, not really. I don't think I've been in this part of the city before."

Okay, that narrowed it down. The stargate was to the south, which was how they had entered the town, so he could rule out that direction. The Magistrate's compound of offices and dwellings was in the eastern quadrant of the city and they had been there for the past two days, so Rodney should have been able to recognize that area. The industrial section of the city, and he used that term loosely, was just north of the government section and McKay had visited several facilities over there that very day. That left the western portion of the city, the residential area, which made the most sense seeing as most panicked hordes tended to head home when threatened by gun wielding terrorists.

"Try and get out of the crowd, find a place that's easy to spot and sit tight. Call me with your location and I'll try to find you." He started working his way to the west, unfortunately against the crowd from his position, so that he fought the current of people like a salmon swimming upstream.

"Major, this is Ford. Do you need assistance?"

"Negative," he told his 2IC who, with Teyla, was waiting under cover at the stargate, "hold your position. We may be delayed, but we'll be there soon enough."

He pushed against the throng, slowly making headway, when McKay came across the radio. "Major, I've found a building; it looks like a church of some sort. It's fairly distinctive from the rest of the buildings in the area. I'm in the doorway now."

He placed his finger to his comlink to key it. "Underst…," he started then was jarred roughly by a large terrorized man causing his hand to pull the earpiece out of place. He looked down, seeing the radio skitter across the cobblestone road as it was kicked by several pairs of feet. "Crap," he mumbled to himself trying to keep his eyes on the devise. If he had thought trying to spot Rodney's blue shirt in the dark had been hard, it was almost impossible to see the black headpiece. He worked his way to the edge of the crowd, hoping it had made it to the rough curb of the roadway. He continued to look down searching for the only link he had with his lost civilian and the rest of his team. It was nowhere to be seen. What were to be seen, however, were a pair of black boots topped with gray utilitarian pants. He looked up into the face of a sneering Genii soldier. He felt two other bodies approach him from behind.

"Oh, hell," he said and the expected blow came to the back of his head, causing his already dark world to turn black.

* * *

"Major?" Rodney called as he leaned back against the door of the church. "Major Sheppard, do you copy?" There was no answer. Oh, this was not good. What was he supposed to do now? The Major had told him to sit tight, that he would find him. But how could he find him if he wasn't responding on his radio? Okay, there was no reason to panic. There was enough of that going on right then that he didn't need to contribute to the collection plate. It could be his location, he thought, interference that wouldn't allow him to reach Sheppard. He keyed his radio again. "Lt. Ford, can you read me?" 

"Dr. McKay," he whispered back, "what happened to Major Sheppard?"

Oh, that was definitely not a good sign.

"I can't reach him," he told the young marine, "I was hoping that maybe you could."

"Major, do you copy?" he called in a low voice. Then, to McKay, "Nothing."

He let out a sigh. _I will not panic,_ he thought. _I will not._

"Okay, maybe he's just having problems with his radio, bad batteries, or…something." He tried not to think about what else 'something' might be. "I'm going to wait here for a little longer; let the crowd disperse. If I haven't see him by then, I'll make my way back to the gate and meet up with you and Teyla." He looked up into the night sky, futilely trying to orient himself. Sure he had learned to recognize some of the stars on Atlantis, but on a completely different planet, even those few constellations he had deciphered looked even more alien with no indication of relative direction. Not that that would have helped much seeing as he really didn't know where he was in the town itself. He was hopelessly lost in a foreign city on an alien planet with hostile agents possibly scouring the streets.

He had not been able to discern much about the shooters when the attack happened, but they had a distinctly Genii-ish quality to them. As if in answer to his thoughts, Ford came back across the radio. "I don't think that's such a good idea, Doc. The Genii are swarming all around the gate. We're in a pretty secure location, but there is no telling what you may run into on your way back."

Okay, well great, then that settled that little dilemma. No need to worry about how to get back to the gate. So, what next? Wait for the Major, that's what. But what if he couldn't find him, for whatever reason? He willed himself not to think about what the reasons may be. Then an idea came to him. "If Major Sheppard doesn't show up, I'll make my way back to the Magistrate's quarters," he told his teammates, at least the ones he could communicate with at the time.

"That may not be a wise decision," Teyla told him. "We do not know why the Genii are here, but it is obvious their intentions are not entirely lawful. The government facilities may be their goal."

"Good point," he reluctantly conceded. "I'm open for ideas," he told them.

"Just stay in the city, try to blend in," Ford told him. "We'll contact you when we can move to you or it looks safe for you to move to us. If Major Sheppard shows up here, we'll let you know."

"Blend in," he said aloud, watching the crowd move frenetically before him. "I can do that." And if he gave in to his growing anxiety he knew that would be easier than anyone could imagine.

"We'll stay in contact, Doc."

"Yeah, you do that, Lieutenant. And take care of yourselves."

He leaned into the door, watching the crowd, searching it for the familiar form of the Major and hoping against hope that he would appear.

* * *

From their vantage point, they could see the dozen or so soldiers milling around the stargate. Several more had already headed into town on some unknown mission. At least it was partially unknown. What they did know from Major Sheppard's quick communication was that the performance he and Dr. McKay had been attending had been cut short by gunfire and the appearance of armed men. Then all hell had evidently broken loose. 

"Do you think Dr. McKay will be alright?" Teyla asked softly from his side.

"I hope so," he whispered back, "but there's nothing we can do for him or the Major right now."

"Yes, I agree." Then, as if to reassure herself, "Major Sheppard is very resourceful, I'm sure he will be fine, as well."

He nodded with a small smile, trying to buy into her optimism and silently cursing the luck that had separated the team.

They had been on the planet for two days, negotiating a trade treaty with the Corridons. Teyla had traded with them in the past. They were one of the more technologically advanced races they had come across in the Pegasus galaxy, although centuries behind Earth. Still, they had quite a bit to offer the expedition as they had the crude ability to machine equipment and necessary replacement parts for the day to day operations of Atlantis. Nuts and bolts kinds of things, both literally and figuratively.

Negotiations had been going well, and were set to wrap the next morning. The Magistrate, a friendly older man named Garris, had invited the team to attend a public concert to commemorate some national holiday or other that was being celebrated. The Major had at first declined, stating the team's need to check in with Atlantis. However, at Garris' frown, Teyla had taken Major Sheppard aside and pointed out that although the treaty was almost in place, it was not yet signed and this refusal could be construed as an insult.

The Major had then agreed that at least half of the team would remain while the other two returned to the stargate and reported back. Of course as the leader, Sheppard was expected to remain, much to his dismay. His forced smile made it perfectly clear that the last thing he wanted to do was remain behind and listen to native folk music. Dr. McKay had quickly volunteered to return to the gate and escape the same fate as the Major. However, that changed dramatically when he heard that a banquette would follow the concert and he just as quickly reneged on his offer and volunteered Ford and Teyla for the two mile trip back.

Aiden had to admit that he hadn't been too disappointed with the Doc's change of heart, given his earlier choice of either being stuck at the concert or stuck trekking back with McKay, his prospects hadn't been very promising. But suddenly being paired with Teyla and released from diplomatic duty had brightened his day considerably. That was until the Genii squadron had come through the gate.

They had just finished their report to Dr. Weir and where debating whether they should head back or wait a little longer to ensure the concert was done, when the gate had come to life behind them. They had found cover in a nearby ravine and watched as twenty armed men wearing the trademark Genii uniforms had stormed through the event horizon. They had warned the Major, then at his direction, hunkered down to await further direction. And that's when everything went south. Evidently men were already in place in the city, shooting had begun followed by mass chaos as the crowd panicked and fled the stadium. The Major and Dr. McKay had become separated and with the men at the gate coming and going in small bands to and from the city, they had little to no chance of helping their teammates without being caught.

Lt. Ford let out a sigh, "I hate not being able to do anything to help," he told Teyla quietly.

"Perhaps from our position we can gleen information that might be valuable to Major Sheppard and Dr. McKay."

Aiden nodded resignedly then looked back at the guards at the gate. Well, they couldn't get any information from where they were currently located. "Be right back," he told Teyla then worked his way silently through the darkness so that he was closer to the enemy troops.

Two men had just returned from the direction of the city and were conferring with some of the men left behind.

"Margen just reported in. They have the soldier, but haven't found the scientist yet."

"What about the other two?" the man that had been at the gate the entire time asked.

"No one has seen them for several hours. They left the city to report back to Atlantis and that's the last anyone heard from them."

The conversation then turned to complaining about one of their officers and Ford scooted his way back to the ravine and dropped in beside Teyla.

"What did you learn?" she asked him.

"Well, I've got good news and bad news. The good news is that they haven't found Dr. McKay and they have no idea where we are."

"And the bad news?"

"They've captured the Major and want McKay."

* * *

He had come to hate the Genii. Not that he had left with a heart full of warm fuzzies after their first meeting, but he hadn't really hated them, just didn't like them very much. After their invasion of Atlantis, however, his dislike had grown to all out hate. He could never forgive them the emotional scars they had left on Elizabeth and the physical scars they had left on Rodney, not to mention the reoccurring nightmare that still haunted him in which one or both of them were dead at the hands of that son of a bitch Kolya. But that hate was nothing compared to the way he just out right despised them now. 

The man who had been interrogating him for the past hour or so nodded his head silently and the goon with the big hands and the lazy eye backhanded him soundly, renewing the flow of blood in his mouth. His taste buds had numbed to the metallic flavor long since, so that a warm gush was the only sign that he was still bleeding.

"Now," the older man asked with deliberate calm, "are you ready to answer?" He was tall, lean, with a long lined face and sharp nose. His thinning gray hair was slicked back from bored, cloudy blue eyes. Cataracts, John had thought when he first saw the man, although if they were, he had adjusted perfectly because his sharp pacing steps showed no sign of faltering.

The older man didn't have to actually ask the question, as he had only ever asked the one, 'Where is McKay?' The irony of the whole situation was that he had answered him honestly from the first time he asked to this last.

"I…don't…know," he drew out the words then willed himself not to flinch when the next blow came on cue. This one was to his kidney and only the two stooges holding him up kept him from collapsing to the ground. "I've told you, we were separated in the crowd. I was looking for him when Moe, Larry, and Curly, here invited me to this shindig."

"But you know where he is," he stated matter-of-factly as he brushed some nonexistent lint off his uniformed shoulder. John had always hated dress uniforms, and didn't trust anyone who liked them. People who enjoyed the dog and pony show that typically went along with such formal attire were usually out to serve themselves more than the mission. John could tell, this man loved his uniform. That fact scared him more than any of the henchmen ever could.

"No," he returned in the same level tone, "I don't."

"You know, Major Sheppard, at first I found your perseverance admirable, I would have been disappointed if you had sold out your compatriot so quickly. Now, however, I only find it boring."

"Really? I thought I was just starting to hit my stride."

The older man approached him then and took his chin in his hand, turning his face so that they met eye to eye. "Listen to me, my boy. You have one purpose and one purpose only and that is to deliver McKay to me. If I decide that you are telling the truth, that you don't really know where he is, then you will be completely useless and I will have to dispose of you appropriately."

A fury blazed through him that he hadn't felt since he was seventeen years old, when he had finally stood up to his stepfather, had finally had enough of the crying ringing in his ears, and had finally stepped between the man's upraised arm and his mother cowering form. His stepfather had taken a step back in surprise then stopped, regarded him with drunken eyes and smirked, "What do you think you're doing, boy?"

John had punched him then, square in the face, and broken his nose. His thanks had been to return home from school that afternoon and find his mother packing up his room and telling him it was probably best that he find someplace else to live.

He jerked his face away from the man, spitting blood onto his perfectly buffed boots. "I am not your boy," he told his tormentor as he fought through the eye-stinging memory of Johnny Walker laced breath, "and I will never deliver up McKay."

The man let out a growl, and John braced for the blow he knew was coming. He was spared, however, when a young soldier walked through the door. The soldier paled visibly and John couldn't tell if it was at the bloody sight he must have been or the look of anger on the older man's face for being interrupted. "S..sir, we found this," and he held up John's radio.

_Crap_, John thought, and hung his head.

The scowl on his interrogators face turned to a smile, "Excellent," he told the young soldier as he walked toward the door, flicking his hand carelessly over his shoulder. The big man grinned then and he heard the older man order them. "Leave him alive, I'm not through with him yet."

Then the beatings began in earnest, and unfortunately for John, his perseverance lasted longer than his consciousness would have liked.

* * *

_Okay_, Rodney thought to himself, _time to get organized. _

He sat cross legged on the floor in the back of the church, his pack unzipped open in front of him. When it had become obvious Major Sheppard was not coming and he had no where to go, he had tried the door and found the chapel to be unlocked. Candles lit the flower draped altar at the front of the rows of benches in the otherwise empty sanctuary. It appeared that it was available for anyone wanting to come and worship anytime during the day or night, 24 hours, seven days a week. Well, 27.3 hours and however they divided their calendar on this particular planet.

His stomach grumbled and he dug out an MRE from the bottom of his pack. He cursed the Genii yet again, this time because they had cost him the banquette he had been looking forward to since the previous night. Not that that was the worst thing they had done all day, not by a long shot, but still he had sat through the caterwauling that was supposed to pass for music on this planet and was stuck eating what the U.S. military had the audacity to label as 'Chicken Tetrazzini'. A more honest label would have read 'microscopic chicken threads floating in a gelatinous medium accented with strips of coagulated school paste' but he figured that was too long to print in large block letters across the brown pouch of government goodness. He cut open the bag, took a bite, and leaned back against the wall.

_First things first_, he thought, _what do you know?_

He knew Ford and Teyla were safe, at least for the time being. He also knew he had no way to get to them or them to him, nor did they have a way back to Atlantis for reinforcements. He knew the Genii were there, wielding guns, taking names, and kicking ass. He knew they had Major Sheppard, that little nauseating tidbit of information had been given to him by Lt. Ford along with another piece of news that turned his stomach even more than his military-issue meal; they were looking specifically for him.

He sighed. Why couldn't they just go and find their own genius to torment? Why did they have to keep wanting him to figure out how to arm their bombs or threatening his life in order to fix the things Sheppard had broken? The Major was very good at breaking things, especially when he did it intentionally. When they had attempted to overtake Atlantis, it had taken everything he had to balance repairing the equipment, stalling the Genii, and saving the city, especially given the weather, the stress, the threats to Elizabeth, the pain…

He shook his head, rubbing absently at his arm, suddenly very concerned for Sheppard. If they had cut him trying to get information, what would they do to the Major? More importantly, what would they _have_ to do to the Major? The man made stubborn look easy, had turned spite into an art form. If they wanted information, he would be belligerent just because he could for as long as he could.

He started to push his meal away, no longer interested in it, but forced himself to take another bite, knowing his body needed the food. He continued his cataloging.

_Now, what do you not know?_

He didn't know why the Genii actually wanted him. He could guess, but it would be pure speculation, so no use going there. He didn't know how the Genii had found them on this planet. From what Lt. Ford had told him about the conversation he had overheard, it appeared they had come here specifically to find them, but how they had known they would be on the planet remained a mystery. He didn't know where they were holding the Major. Still on the planet, somewhere, as Ford and Teyla had not seen anyone leave through the stargate. Finally, he didn't know exactly where he was, but he figured that would be resolved in a few hours when the sun rose and he could ask directions from people as they started their day. Problem was, once he knew where he was, he had nowhere to go. He looked around the church deciding it would make a good enough home base, at least for the time being.

_Lastly, what do you have?_

He began emptying his pack onto the floor. There was his life signs detector, his laptop, an extra external hard drive, a repair case with a few tools, wires, and clips, his Leatherman, a small first aid kit, two more MREs in addition to the one he was currently eating, an extra pair of socks, a cap, a rain poncho, an emergency blanket, a reflective mirror, several small packs of sunscreen, insect repellant, and hand sanitizer, and a small leather case with archeological brushes and picks. At the very bottom he found an extremely squashed powerbar, a gritty layer of sand and a paperclip. He puzzled over the paperclip momentarily, wondering over the fact that no matter what duffle, briefcase or pack he owned, there always seemed to be a paperclip in the bottom even though he could never remember having any clipped papers in the bag. It was one of those great mysteries of life, like missing socks in the laundry or keys that disappear only to reappear magically after you finally break down and get duplicates made of your spares.

He was about to start inventory on his vest, wondering sarcastically if he would find the missing New Zealand hotel receipt he had needed last year for his travel reimbursement to Antarctica, when his radio keyed in his ear with a small burst of static. He checked his watch, making sure he hadn't missed reporting in with Teyla and the Lieutenant, only to find he still had fifteen minutes. His heart raced at why they would be checking in early. He waited a few seconds for them to call, but there was nothing. He was just about to call to them, when it keyed again and a strange voice spoke over the frequency.

"Dr. McKay," the voice called with polite authority, "please respond."

He started to reply, then hesitated. If the Genii had Sheppard, then they might also have his radio. He wasn't sure if he really wanted to talk to them. However, it might be his only way to find some information about the Major.

"Dr. McKay," the voice called again, "I am fairly sure that you can hear me. I am also fairly sure that we can be of beneficial service to one another."

He licked his lips, swallowed his fear, and keyed his earpiece. "Is Major Sheppard okay?"

"So, you are out there after all." The voice seemed pleased and almost grandfatherly if not for the icy tint of delight he could hear.

"Answer my question. Is he okay?"

"He is alive." The small inflection on the last word caused a chill to run down Rodney's spine. Alive but obviously not what the man would classify as okay.

"I..I want to talk to him."

"I'm sorry but that is not possible at the moment. But I would like to make arrangements for you to see him."

"Nope, not going anywhere until I talk to the Major."

"That may take some time to arrange."

The question of why sprang to mind, but he pushed it back and concentrated on sounding casual. "Not really in a hurry to get anywhere at the moment. Kind of comfortable where I am."

"And where would that be?"

"Even if I could, I don't think I would be telling you."

"Fair enough." He sounded almost amused. "Must be very lonely for you, Doctor. On a strange planet, no teammates around, not really sure who you can trust. Very lonely indeed."

"Ha! You obviously don't know me very well. This is the first peace and quiet I've had in months. I'm actually rather enjoying myself." He could feel the perspiration on his forehead and wiped absently at a drop running down his temple.

"I see, well, enjoy it while you can. I'll be back in touch shortly. By the way, do you know when your other team members are scheduled to return from Atlantis?"

Rodney opened then closed his mouth in surprise at the last question. They thought Ford and Teyla were back on Atlantis. That might be his ace in the hole. "They aren't coming back," he blurted suddenly when he realized he hadn't answered the man. "They went back last night to stay. Major Sheppard and I were scheduled to complete the treaty then return today."

"Well then, I'm sorry, but I'm afraid you will have a change in plans. I will be in touch shortly. Telmun out."

The radio went dead and Rodney pulled his knees up to his chest. Telmun. Well at least he had a name for the voice. He really dreaded the time when he would then have to put name to face. With a heavy sigh, he dropped his forehead to his kneecaps. He was way out of his league here, way, way, way out. What was he going to do if the man produced Sheppard? Right then, it was the one thing he wanted and feared most. If the Major was still alive, as the man had claimed he was, as he prayed he was, he would have no choice but to comply with his plans to meet up with him. But then what? It didn't take multiple PhD's to know that once they had him, they would have no need for the Major any more. No, they had their bargaining chip and so he had to find one of his own.

_Think_, he told himself. _Think, think, think. You can do this. After all, you are the sharpest knife in the drawer, the quickest duck on the pond. You're a genius for Pete's sake, bona fide, certified, and card carrying even. Yeah, sure, McKay, like that would work. Pull out your MENSA card and drop that bombshell on them._

"Bomb," he said out loud, looking excitedly at the equipment and tools spread before him. Of course! It didn't have to be big, just big enough to take him out personally and maybe anyone in the close vicinity. Because, they wanted him and if they were going to ante up using the Major's life, then he would ante up with his own.

* * *

Teyla's eyes widened as she listened to the conversation on the radio and she noted a similar expression on Lt. Ford's face. It had been disheartening, to say the least, to learn that Major Sheppard was probably injured and unable to speak. It had been alarming to learn that Dr. McKay was going to have to turn himself over to the same people that had hurt the Major in order to try and save his life. And it had been surprising to learn that the Genii thought they were back on Atlantis. Hopefully, Dr. McKay's quick thinking had reinforced that assumption. On the positive side, that meant they might be able to use that to their advantage. On the negative side, they would no longer be able to communicate with Dr. McKay, leaving him completely alone. 

"We must find some way to help Major Sheppard and Dr. McKay," she told her teammate.

"Hey, no argument from me. Question is, how?"

She considered for a moment, then spoke. "I have been thinking about how the Genii knew we were on this planet. They know that I am helping your people find trading partners."

"Well, yeah, that's how we met them in the first place."

"Exactly. And as I have traded with the Genii for many years, they are familiar with many of the other planets that the Athosians have developed relations with. I believe it was my father even who told the Genii about the Corridon to possibly develop their own trade among the two groups."

"So, what, you think they came here hoping that you would also bring us here and they could ambush us."

"I think that they have established friendships here that may be sympathetic to the Genii cause and would be willing to notify them when we arrived on this planet."

"You're saying there is a spy among the Corridon?"

She nodded her head in agreement.

"But who?" he asked.

"I do not know," she admitted.

Aiden bit his lower lip in thought then said, "Okay, let's just think this through. They attacked at the concert and I don't think it was just coincidence that Major Sheppard and Dr. McKay were in the audience. So, who knew they were going to be at the concert?"

"The Magistrate," she told him with dawning realization.

"Or someone in his office," he added.

"So what do we do?"

"They are only looking for us to come out of the gate, not behind it," he indicated the forest that sat behind the stargate. "All the patrols have been along the road between the here and the city."

"We could circle around, enter the city from the east," she supplied, catching on to his thinking, "and into the Magistrate's offices."

"Exactly," he said with a grin and began gathering his gear. "Come on, I'm in the mood to flush out a spy."

"And if we find the spy," she said with a grin of her own, "hopefully we find the Major and Dr. McKay."

With a last look back at the stargate and occupying Genii troops, they headed to the forest and were quickly swallowed by the night.

TBC (I can't believe I typed those three letters!)


	2. Pros and Cons

_A/N: Wow, I'm overwhelmed by the response the first chapter got, so thanks to your begging and pleading, here's chapter 2. Evidently, all I have to do is whump John and I have you eating out of my hands. lol! Well, get ready for your next feast, kiddies! Just some warning- the first part is a little dark. This is what happens when you think of ways to make John talk while cooking dinner!_

**sub•ter•fuge**(sub't_u_r-fy**OO**j), _noun._ A deceptive device or stratagem.

**_Chapter 2: Pros and Cons_**

Hallmark doesn't make a card that says your mom is choosing the man who gets drunk and beats her over her own son, but a stack of cardboard boxes in your bedroom filled with your personal belongings goes a long way in communicating that sentiment.

She was in his closet when he found her, pulling a few books and odds and ends off the top shelf and placing them carefully in a box with Jack Daniels printed on the side. The irony that she had gone to the liquor store around the corner for the packaging was not lost on him; the booze had ushered all the problems into her life, it might as well be the booze boxes that ushered her son out of it.

He walked around the already full Sutter Home box, the Absolute, even the hated Johnny Walker sitting next to two garbage bags bulging with his clothes, so that he was standing right behind her. "Mom?"

She didn't stop packing, didn't even look at him. "This isn't going to work, John. You can't stay here any more."

"But…" But what? He knew she was right, knew he hated being in the house, knew he was counting the days until he turned eighteen, graduated, and went off to college in the fall. Still, there were some practical items to consider. With just a part time job, there was no way he could afford someplace to live until August or the expenses of school when the time did come. "Where am I supposed to go? What about school? You said you would help me with tuition."

Finally she turned, regarded him with dry eyes, and reached a hand up to his cheek. "You're a smart kid. I know you'll think of something." And he would, he knew it, too. There were loans, and jobs, and maybe even the G.I. Bill. But the fact that he would be okay financially, really meant very little in the wake of the emotional slap in the face his mother had just delivered. He closed his eyes, savoring the burning sting of her gentle caress.

His eyes flew open at the slap Curly had just delivered to his face. He saw he was still in the same sparse room he had been in since they had interrogated him into oblivion. The room had no windows and just the one door, empty shelves lined the walls, and the strange iridescent glowing lamps the Corridon used provided the only illumination. It looked to have been a storeroom once. Whether it had been long since abandoned or recently emptied for its current use, he couldn't tell. He had no idea how long he had been out, and really didn't care, but was, in a way, thankful that the rude awakening had brought him out of his memories.

He shifted, tentatively testing his body, only to find that he really couldn't move. He was upright in a straight-backed chair, arms and legs tied securely to the wood supports of the seat. To the side, he could see the older man he had come to loathe sitting on the edge of a table holding his radio. The pleasant smile on his face sent a flutter through John's stomach.

"Major Sheppard, so nice to see you awake. I have someone who would like to speak with you." He keyed the earpiece and spoke into the devise. "Dr. McKay, I have Major Sheppard with me now, as you requested."

John clamped his lips shut. The man had obviously reached McKay while he was out and McKay had just as obviously refused to give the man what he wanted until he spoke with his teammate, and since they were going to have this conversation over the radio, the Genii had yet to find Rodney. John planned to keep it that way.

The interrogator placed the radio by his ear so that he could hear the scientist ask in a worried voice, "Major, are you all right?"

He hadn't realized how good it would sound to hear a friendly voice, how tempting it would be to respond, but he closed his eyes and remained silent. "Major Sheppard, are you there?" A note of panic was teasing at the edge of the scientist's worry.

"Major," the man holding the radio told him, "it would be in your best interest to answer him."

John glared at him as best he could through the bruising on his face, wished his hands were free so he could flip the man off, (even though he knew he wouldn't recognize the hand signal he figured he would get the intent), then turned silently away.

"I see." The older man held the radio so that both of them could hear. "Dr. McKay, it seems the Major is in no mood to talk right now."

"Listen, Telmun," McKay snapped back with genuine Rodney outrage that almost made John laugh, "I don't know what you are trying to pull, but I made it very clear, I'm not going anywhere until I speak with Major Sheppard."

_Telmun_, John thought, _well the old guy has a name after all._

"You heard the Doctor, if you won't speak with him voluntarily, I will have to elicit this conversation through other means." John stared at the wall, refusing to speak. Evidently Telmun signaled his goon, because the man kicked him hard in the kneecap. His eyes actually watered from the shooting pain, but he managed to hold in everything except a small grunt.

"Major?" McKay called with concern at the muffled sound.

"My, we are being stubborn this morning," Telmun observed with amusement. "I guess I'll have to handle this myself." John couldn't stop his eyes widening in fear at that statement as the older man handed the big guy the radio. This man was an expert at what he did, John could tell; a real pro.

"Telmun, what's going on? Major?" The voice sounded so small and far away through the earpiece.

Telmun ignored McKay and walked in front of John. "You know, my father was a butcher and I used to work in his shop as a child. I used to bone the fowl for him."

"Telmun, let me talk to Major Sheppard." So very far away, but Telmun, he was right there.

"Some people think the best way to chop the meat is with a cleaver, but really that is only for those who don't possess the finesse for the truly delicate task of boning." He reached to his side and pulled a stiletto-like knife from the sheath. "For that, a thin blade works best."

John swallowed, following the man as best he could with his wide eyes as Telmun casually made his way around to come to stand behind John's left shoulder, the one closest to the radio with Rodney pleading, "Major, can you hear me?" from across that terrible distance.

"You see, the secret is to by pass the muscle," he confided softly into John's ear, but loud enough that McKay could hear it, as well. Yeah, he made sure Rodney could hear every word. He pressed his fingers along John's shoulder as if he were mapping out the sinews, searching for just the right spot. "You want the knife to do the least amount of damage to the flesh while cutting through those pesky little joints."

John's heart raced as the man's warm breath skimmed across his neck. He smelled of soap and morning tea; like he had just taken a shower, had breakfast then come to work to torture a man. Nothing out of the ordinary, just a normal day at the office.

Yep, a real pro.

A sheen of sweat exploded across his back at the thought and he suddenly found his lungs wouldn't expand. _Breathe, John, breathe! _He managed to take in one hitching breath at his brain's demand. From that seemingly infinite expanse, Rodney called out, "Telmun, l..look, lets talk about this. Maybe…maybe we can work something out. Major?"

Telmun ignored him, completely caught up in his probing. "Ah," he said with ultimate satisfaction, "there it is."

As the knife plunged into his shoulder, John thought he might have heard Rodney screaming, "Stop! For God's sakes, stop it!" but he was really having trouble hearing anything at all over his own scream cleaving its way out of his throat.

* * *

_Now is not the time for tears_, she told herself, and yet Lt. Ford's grim face wavered liquidly before her. 

The screaming of both men had mercifully ended. The pleading from Dr. McKay for Telmun to stop whatever torture he had dreamed up for Major Sheppard had finally been answered with a few short ragged gasps from the Major and Telmun's inquiry of "Satisfied now, Doctor?"

"Tell me where to find you," Dr. McKay had instructed the man with a voice of utter defeat.

"I'll send my men to you."

"I'm in a church in the residential section of the city. It looks like there's a bakery down the street, maybe a clothing shop."

"Yes, I know the area well. Someone will be there shortly."

Teyla wondered at that. How would a Genii know the residential area so well?

"Telmun, don't touch him again. If he's not alive when I get there, you won't get anything from me." The quiver in Dr. McKay's voice made him sound more desperate than threatening and she wanted to cry all the more.

"Of course, Doctor. I'm sure Major Sheppard is looking forward to your reunion."

Teyla wiped angrily at her eyes and set her jaw. Lt. Ford gripped his P90 so tightly that even in the gray light of dawn she could see his hands shaking. He was breathing deeply and deliberately, struggling to control his own emotions. Telmun would pay, slowly, if she had any say in the matter, but he would definitely pay. She used that thought to channel the threatening tears into resolve and nodded at Aiden.

They had worked their way back to town through the cover of night and forest, then scouted silently into the eastern edge of the city until they reached the Magistrate's compound of buildings. They crouched beside a low block wall that enclosed a courtyard on Garris' private quarters. Lt. Ford peeked over the wall, then with hand signals indicated two armed guards patrolling the building.

'Genii?' she mouthed the question.

Aiden responded with a shake of his head and a shrug of his shoulders that she interpreted as 'I don't think so.'

She nodded in understanding. They could be friend or foe, they just couldn't tell, which meant they would need to use nonlethal force. The Lieutenant held up three fingers then counted them down to zero and they leapt over the wall. She took the one on the right, clacking the butt of her P90 into his head so that he dropped with little more than an "umph." Aiden had come up behind the other guard and was choking him into unconsciousness. With a final twitch, the guard went limp in his arms and he lowered him to the ground. She took the zip-tie the Lieutenant offered her and they quickly had both men restrained and dragged them into the shadows of a tree.

They approached the house then, listening for the tell tale signs of any other guards. From the kitchen that she knew lay to the right, she could smell bread baking and the sounds of cooks preparing for the days meals. The study that Garris used as a home office was down the hallway to the left. They had been there several times over the past few days during the trade negations. She tilted her head in that direction and Aiden indicated she should lead.

She moved stealthfully as she had been taught in her youth, trying her best to keep the new Earth gear that she had started wearing from creaking or rubbing against her body too loudly. The equipment was powerful and efficient, but bulkier than she had been used to during her formative training, and she had found it a challenge to adjust her movements to the gear.

Finally, they reached the door to the study and she could hear muffled voices within the room. She held up a fisted hand and Lt. Ford stopped and pressed himself against the wall. She listened for a few seconds, unable to make out the conversation but from the sounds of footsteps and voices and the movement of chairs, she figured there were three, possibly four people in the room. With her fingers she conveyed this to Aiden and he nodded as he gripped the weapon in his hand.

Just as he had done at the wall, she counted down their entrance and threw open the door. Garris stood suddenly from behind his desk, wearing night clothes and a look of shock. His wife wore a similar expression from her seat on the couch by the window.

What caught her attention most, however, were the two Genii pushing back chairs from the table, their cups of hot liquid tumbling from their hands. She and Ford attacked swiftly, disarming the men before they could reach for their pistols. Aiden had his victim pressed against the wall, the man's arm twisted painfully behind him.

She had knocked hers to the ground and knelt with a knee and her P90 in his back. With her free hand, she lifted his head by the hair. "Now, you will tell us what we want to know," she informed him with conviction born of unshed tears.

"I will tell you nothing," he sneered back.

She slammed his head sharply into the floor, disappointed that she was only rewarded with a sickening thud instead of screams like those she had endured from Major Sheppard.

* * *

They moved him roughly down the stairs so that Rodney had to struggle to maintain his footing on his blind trek. He had one arm wrapped protectively around his backpack. Sure, they had tried to take it from him, at the church, just before they put the blindfold over his eyes, but when he showed them his latest toy, the one he held tightly in his opposite hand, they had let him keep the pack. 

They reached the bottom of the second flight of stairs, so that he figured they were in a basement. _Okay, Rodney, you're in a basement in an unknown building in an unknown part of the city. Fat lot of good that information is going to do you._ No, that wasn't entirely true. When they had led him out of the church, the sun was just rising. He had felt the warmth briefly on his face before they turned him away from the rays. The sun did actually rise in the east on this planet, or roughly so as it actually had a slight wobble on its axis of rotation. Still, crude as his sense of direction was, he knew had been led west and further into the residential portion of the town. They had walked about ten minutes, winding down alleys and through streets until he has pushed through a doorway and into a building.

He had listened then, for any sound that would indicate what sort of building it was. He had heard men, soldiers from the small snippets of conversation he caught coming from above him (evidently there was a second floor to the building) and off to his right, where there was also the smell of food cooking and plates clinking. Therefore, he had come to the conclusion that he was in a dwelling, a personal residence or maybe a boarding house. However, there were no carpets on the floor as he had seen in other private dwellings here on Corridon and there was a distinct reverberation suggesting empty space, meaning the house was either very sparsely furnished or very seldom used.

The men escorting him down a short hallway, opened a door, and pushed him inside. They released his arms and took a step back.

"Okay, now what?" he asked the room in general.

"Dr. McKay, I am so happy that you saw fit to join us."

"Telmun? Are you planning a game of pin the tail on the donkey or can I take off the blindfold?"

"Sorry, I am unfamiliar with that game, but by all means, Doctor, remove the cloth."

Rodney placed his pack down between his legs, then reached up and pulled the strip from his eyes. He blinked against even the faint light from the lamps and saw the distinguished form of Telmun leaning casually against the lone table in the room. Behind him, tied to a chair, slumped a bloody and battered Major Sheppard.

"Jesus Christ, what the hell have you done to him?" Rodney took a step towards the beaten man and his two escorts moved forward to restrain him. "Let me go, or I swear you will suffer the consequences," he held up the devise he clasped threateningly and the two men hesitated, their eyes darting nervously between Telmun and their prisoner.

Telmun furrowed his brow in curiosity. "Doctor, what exactly is that little contraptions you have there?"

"It's a bomb, and unless you want me to blow up half this building, I suggest you let me check on the Major." Without waiting for a response, he brushed past the older man and knelt before Sheppard. He watched as the man's chest rose and fell, letting out his own breath with that confirmation of life. "Major, can you hear me?" He touched the Major's leg and Sheppard flinched away as best he could while still being tied to the chair. He turned with angry eyes to the Genii. "Cut him loose, now."

Telmun seemed to be holding back a grin, but he flicked his hand and one of the men came forward and cut away the bindings. Major Sheppard slumped forward so that Rodney had to catch him and push him back with a hand on his chest. The heartbeat he felt was strong, if a little quick, and a little more panic left him. "John," he called quietly and the eyelids fluttered open.

"McKay?" he croaked, "What the hell are you doing here?"

Rodney smiled then, a smile of relief, even though the whole ordeal was far from over. "Good to see you too, Major. But to answer your question, I'm here to make sure no one lays a hand on you again."

"And just how do you plan to do that?"

Rodney held up the devise he clutched in his hand with a smirk and flicker of his eyebrows, "With this."

"That's a life signs detector, Rodney."

"More or less," he agreed. "Can you sit by yourself? I need to do something here."

John nodded his head and pulled himself up into a swaying but upright sitting position. Satisfied that the man wasn't going to tumble out of his chair, Rodney released his hold on his chest and went to work on the detector. He pushed several buttons then called Telmun over. "I want to show you something." He held up the devise so that the screen was displayed. "This is an Ancient's life signs detector. See these dots; these are all the people in this room and evidently several upstairs as well. Now, see this dot here, that is me, and this one, is Major Sheppard. If anything happens to either one of us, as in there are no longer any life signs to detect, or either one of us gets more than fifteen feet away from this detector, I have programmed it so that the small naquedah power source inside will overload and explode."

"But it is so small, it will only kill you if it explodes."

"Normally, yes, but not with this attached to it." He turned the detector around to reveal two gray blobs stuck to the back, a thin metal ellipse running between the two blobs and two wires running up and into the inner workings of the devise.

"What is that material?" Telmun had lost some of his confidence with the questions.

"Have you ever seen C-4?"

"Yes, and that is not it," Telmun told him with confidence.

"Of course its not," Rodney huffed, "such a small amount of C-4 would do very little damage. But C-5 on the other hand…"

Major Sheppard sputtered behind him and Rodney realized he was trying to laugh, "McKay, you are one crazy son of a bitch."

Rodney gave the Major a disapproving glare, "Stop laughing, Major, you might cause more damage to your self."

"C-5?" Telmun stated in disbelief. "I've never heard of such an explosive."

"The only reason you've seen C-4 is because we used it to blow up a few tree stumps back on your farms. Do you honestly think that we would use something that is ten times more powerful than C-4 to speed up menial labor? No, C-5 only gets pulled out on special occasions, like when you're being held hostage and are trying to even the odds."

"The fact remains, Dr. McKay, that if you detonate the bomb, you will also kill yourself and Major Sheppard."

"The fact remains that you plan to do that eventually, anyway. Now, you need me to do something for you. I honestly have no clue what it could be, but you want it so badly that you are willing to kidnap and torture another person just to get it. The way I figure it, if you're willing to do that just to get me, you should be willing to leave him alive to keep me. All I've done is given me and the Major a little added insurance so that you don't do anything more cold blooded and repulsive than you already have."

Telmun pulled at the bottom of his jacked and stood straighter. "Very well, Doctor, Major Sheppard can remain with you for the time being. I will be back shortly with the assignment I have for you."

"Not just yet. I need beds; one for me and one for the Major. And food and water, and medical supplies. I'm not doing anything until he's taken care of."

Rodney willed himself not to pale when Telmun clinched his fists by his sides, obviously trying to restrain his anger. He nodded to the guards and they exited the room. "You'll have everything you need, Doctor. I'll see you shortly." Then, he too left the room.

With an exhaled breath, Rodney ran his hand through his hair and sunk to his knees beside Sheppard. "Well, I thought that went well, didn't you?"

"C-5, Rodney? C-5? Just what the hell are you up to?"

"Major, I just conned a man that makes Josef Mengele look like the Easter Bunny into believing I can blow up his house with MRE standard issue chewing gum, a paperclip and some scrap wire. Do you think you can cut me a little slack?"

* * *

Aiden watched Teyla slam the man's head into the floor once again and although he knew he should probably stop her, he was having trouble motivating himself for the task. Hell, after hearing Major Sheppard's screams, he was having trouble not cheering her on. 

Fortunately for the Genii, and unfortunately for his desire for revenge, Garris' wife, Alma, intervened. "Teyla, please, you must stop."

Teyla held the man's head by the hair, grinning with pleasure when she noticed a tooth lying on the floor, "Give me one good reason why I should."

"Because they have my daughter and if anything happens to these men, I fear they will kill her."

Teyla blinked in confusion, then released her hold on the soldier's hair, although she maintained her position pinning him to the floor.

"And this is why you have not sent guards to disband the Genii at the stargate?"

Garris stepped in then, "Yes, we received a message yesterday morning. Cowen has taken our daughter and will kill her if we interfere with the mission that is taking place. They have promised to release her as soon as it is complete."

"How did they take her?" Aiden asked, pushing the soldier he was retraining further into the wall when he tried to pull away. Not that he agreed with them sitting by while the Genii kidnapped and tortured his teammates, but at least he could begin to understand why they had let it happen.

"She studies antiquities, travels to different planets to do so. She has been studying an Ancient site on another planet for months now. We assume it was there that they kidnapped her."

Teyla pulled a zip-tie from her vest and secured the soldier's hands. "How would the Genii know where she was?"

Alma spoke again, "She travels to the Genii home world often, to visit family."

"You are Genii?" Teyla's voice was as surprised as Aiden felt.

"No, I am Corridon. When I married Garris, I gave up any claim as a Genii. But my father and a few other relatives still remain. Although I rarely have contact with them any more, Rowan is very close to her grandfather."

Aiden secured his own prisoner then sat him on the floor next to the one Teyla had subdued. "I don't get it. Why would they threaten to kill your daughter if she maintains friendships with the Genii?"

"My father was a high ranking military officer. He even served closely with Cowen's father when he was in charge. But when he died and Cowen took over, my father became disillusioned with the direction Cowen was taking Genii. He spoke out publicly against Cowen and in so doing made an enemy."

"Why did he stay if Cowen was such a threat?" Aiden asked.

"There are those that still support my father, consider him a great man. And above everything else, he is a patriot and would never abandon the Genii cause."

Aiden sorted through the information he had gathered from the conversation. "Okay, so Cowen decides he can take care of two birds with one stone. He kidnaps the granddaughter of a political enemy so that he can send this Telmun here to kidnap the Major and Dr. McKay without interference."

"Telmun?" Alma demanded. "You must be mistaken."

"No," Teyla assured her, "we heard him give his name very clearly."

"But Telmun is my father."

* * *

"Sheppard, I need you to wake up now." 

The voice was accompanied by a light shake of his shoulder, but the bed was so comfortable that the thought of getting up was too much to bear. He weakly tried to slap the hand away and burrowed deeper into the pillow.

"John, come on, wake up."

Where was he anyway? He should be able to remember, but everything was such a blur and his head was pounding. He had a brief image of lots of people, nighttime, flickering lights. Was it the TKE party? What the hell had they put in that punch anyway? He had learned his lesson; never drink anything that is served by dipping your own milkjug into a garbage can full of green liquid. But, damn, it was tasty; like drinking Koolaid mixed with jet fuel, with just as much kick, and the girls loved it.

The hand was back on his shoulder and another thought came to mind. Oh, God, who had he brought home with him? He had been talking to a red head for a while, then there was the brunette with the coconut-shell bikini top and hula skirt. Who knew they made those things in a D cup? Oh, please don't let it be the blond with all the braids. His roommate had a thing for her and it would be so bad if she walked out into the kitchen and he was sitting there.

"Sheppard!"

He reached up and patted the hand, "Okay, sweetheart," he mumbled, "go hop in the shower. I'll be there in a minute."

"As tempting as that sounds, Major, I have a strict policy about showering with anyone that is exhibiting more facial hair than I am."

Huh! He rolled over, pain causing his body to protest the simple act and blurrily looked up into a face, a male face. Shit, it was New Orleans 1992 all over again.

"Major?"

The face slowly came into focus, "McKay?"

"The one and only, and if you insist on calling me sweetheart again, it's going to at least cost you dinner and a movie first."

He placed his arm over his face in a futile attempt to quell the throbbing in his skull. "Have you ever gone to Mardi Gras, Rodney?"

"No. Why?"

"Thank God for small miracles."

"Major, do you know where you are?"

Oh, yes, now it was all coming back to him. He had been beaten thoroughly by the Genii in an attempt to keep them from finding McKay, only to have the man waltz in to his prison claiming to have MacGyvered a bomb out of scrap metal and an MRE. Beyond all logical thought, his captors had bought it, even provided a nice comfy cot, the first food and water he had seen all night, and the limited first aid supplies that McKay had combined with his field kit to bandage him up as best he could. There's only so much a man can do with gauze, bandaids, and those little antiseptic wipes that came in the first aid kits everyone was issued on Atlantis. Sure, they're great if you get a splinter, but don't work worth shit if you're pissing pink because you've been punched in the kidneys one too many times.

And now it was time for McKay's version of twenty questions that came every hour on the hour because of the concussion he had obviously suffered at the hands of the Three Stooges.

"Major?"

Well, might as well get it over with so that he could go back to sleep for another hour.

"That's Major John Sheppard, U.S. Air Force, to you, one Rodney McKay, astrophysicist and general pain in my ass. I honestly have no idea what day it is, but I'm pretty sure you don't either, so you can't really hold that against me. As to our location, I believe we are somewhere on the Corridon home planet, locked in a basement with little more than a couple of beds, a table, a chair, and…what the hell is that?"

"That," Rodney told him with a dangerous glimmer in his eyes, "is why we are here in the first place."

It was a seven foot tall, three foot wide, and three foot deep column and appeared to be made of glass. Ancient glyph symbols, like those on the stargate, were etched on all six sides, even the bottom as he could see through the walls. In addition, etched handprints appeared on three sides. He stood with McKay's help and hobbled his way over to the thing, and without thought started to reach out a hand to one of the hand prints. Rodney slapped it away before he could touch it.

"You see them, too, don't you?" he asked him with a grin.

"What, the handprints? Sure. Why?"

"They can't."

"Who are 'they'?"

"The Genii that have been researching this thing. According to their notes, they can see the glyphs, but there is no mention of the handprints." Rodney was shuffling through papers, trying to find one in particular.

John shook his head. Trying to keep up with McKay on a normal day was hard enough, but with his head and body both feeling like a jello parfait, it was almost impossible. "Whoa, backup a second. Where did this thing come from?"

Rodney continued his searching, "Oh, Telman brought it in a couple of hours ago," he told him absently. "Evidently he thinks it holds the key to defeating the Wraith and overthrowing the current powerbase of the Genii. I get the feeling he doesn't really like Cowen and his lot."

"Great, nothing like getting caught in the middle of a political coup." Then something else McKay had just said sunk in, "Wait a minute. You let me sleep for a couple of hours without waking me?"

Rodney held up a paper in success, "Uh, yes. It's probably been two maybe three hours since I last woke you."

"What happened to massive head trauma, periodic waking to ensure that I haven't slipped into a coma and all that other crap you were spewing earlier?"

"You're fine." He dismissed as he held out the paper, pointing at drawings of the box. "You see here. The sketches…"

"I'm fine? Just like that, I'm fine?"

Rodney rolled his eyes, "Look, you're standing, we're conversing, you're fine. I admit you were a little disoriented when I woke you this time, thinking I was one of your drunken one night stands, but you didn't try to sneak out the door with your clothes wadded in your arms so I figure it must have been at least a pleasant memory. Yes, you're bloody and bruised and I have spent a good deal of time dreaming up very unpleasant things to do to Telmun involving taizer-guns and water balloons, but there is very little extra damage they could have done to your mental capacities that you didn't take care of during your days of beer bongs and naked fratboy keggers. So, you're fine."

"Taizer-guns and water balloons?" John grinned at the possibilities.

"I'll show you the preliminary engineering designs I did later, but right now I need to show you this."

'This' was a sketch of the box, showing all the symbols except the handprints. "So why can't they see the handprints?"

"I'm assuming it's because whoever worked on this didn't possess the ATA gene."

"So, it's some form of security to keep nonAncients from using the device."

"Pretty much, but I think it's a little more than that. Come stand over here and watch." John moved and Rodney directed him to place one hand on his side of box while he did the same on another. The box glowed blue for a second, then a small whoosh emitted from the opposite side, collapsed back in on itself and settled into the shimmering silver-blue of an event horizon.

John's mouth fell open. "It's a stargate."

"It's a portable stargate," Rodney confirmed with that same mischievous glimmer in his eyes, "_and_ it's a trap."

John took an unconscious step back at the statement and the puddle disappeared. "What sort of trap?"

"The box activates when two sides are touched simultaneously by two different individual. Just like the DHD, it doesn't require the ATA gene to operate it. According to the notes I was given, the Genii activated the gate using all sorts of combinations, and I agree with their assumption that the different combinations dial different preprogrammed addresses. Problem was, when they finally sent someone through, they never came back. I don't know if there just wasn't a way to get back, or they couldn't get the address right, or there were a thousand poisonous snakes waiting on the other side. But I believe that one of the addresses in this box leads to something very important to the Ancients and they didn't want just anyone having access to it."

John stared at the box in awe. It had gone back to looking like solid glass. "It's the Ancient's version of the roach motel; Genii go in but they don't come out."

"Yes, well, disgusting yet appropriate bug analogy aside; I think you get my point."

"So what do you think they are protecting?"

Rodney went back to the stack of papers. "They found the box in a temple of some sort with Ancient texts and references covering the walls. Evidently there are quite a few mentions of something called the 'well of thought' although I wish I could see the original text because I think something was lost in the translation. Ancient conjugations can be very tricky if you don't pay attention, and I have a feeling the interpreter did a sloppy job."

"Okay, so now that we know what it does and to some extent how it does it, what now?"

"I think we could go to this 'well of thought' if we activate the gate properly."

"And you know how to do that?"

"The hand prints, Major, those are the finally clues. The gate activates with two hands and fools anyone who shouldn't have access to the Ancient's secrets into thinking that is all that is needed. But only someone with the Ancient's genes would be able to see that you really need three hands to activate it, three hands from three different individuals."

"Great, Rodney, but there's only the two of us here. Not that I liked my previous company, but we're one ATA gene short."

"Yes, I know that, Major, which is why I'm going to take my previous statement back. I don't think you're fine. In fact, I think you really need to see a doctor. And as the overprotective bomb-wielding genius that I am, the only one I am going to trust to treat you is our own personal physician from Atlantis."

(TBC- again!)


	3. A pilot, a physicist, and a physician wa...

_A/N: See, I promised it would be finished in three parts! Many, many thanks to everyone who reviewed. I'm seriously overwhelmed by the response this story has received. The bunnies are eating well!_

**sub•ter•fuge**(sub't_u_r-fy**OO**j), _noun._ A deceptive device or stratagem.

**_Chapter 3: A pilot, a physicist, and a physician walk into a box…_**

Elizabeth looked up from her desk at the sound of the knock to find Sgt. Bates standing in her doorway.

"I have the team assembled, ma'am. We'll be ready to head out in ten minutes."

She gave him a small smile. "Thank you, Sergeant." With a nod of his head, he was gone and Elizabeth let out a sigh. They were half an hour overdue and given the positive report she had received from Lt. Ford and Teyla the day before, she really couldn't understand why. She had expected the treaty with the Corridons to be signed and delivered hours ago by a disgruntled John Sheppard complaining about having to play diplomat and a disgusted Rodney McKay complaining about the planet's lack of sanitation and a disenchanted Aiden Ford and Teyla Emmagan rolling their eyes at their teammates. More than once, she had seriously considered reassigning the team, just to give them a break from one another, but knew that the uproar that would cause would be worse than the petty bickering that had become the modus operandi for Sheppard's team.

The sound of the gate activating brought her to her feet and into the control room. Well, well, well, maybe they wouldn't have to deploy a unit to go retrieve them after all. The final chevron locked into place and she looked to Peter Grodin to confirm that it was indeed the delinquent group.

Peter furrowed his brow, "No IDC being received."

She frowned and even though the shield was still in place, Sgt. Bates had his men forming an armed perimeter around the gate.

"Atlantis, this is McKay, do you copy?"

Elizabeth let out a small breath at the radio transmission and responded, "Rodney, we were starting to get worried, you were due back half and hour ago."

"Yes, well, we ran into a little snag on our side."

Peter cut in then, "Dr. McKay, we haven't received your IDC."

"That's because I haven't transmitted it. Liz, we're not going to be coming home just yet."

She exchanged puzzled looks with Peter and mouthed the word, 'Liz'. Peter only shrugged in response.

"And why is that?" she inquired.

"Like I said, we've had a little problem and need you to send Carson over."

Well, that request sent the alarm bells ringing. "Rodney, is someone injured?"

"No…well…Major Sheppard has come down with some sort of bug and we don't want to return to Atlantis and expose everyone there to a potential contagion without Carson checking us out first. After all, Carson is our bug expert, you know."

Was she just imagining it, or was he stressing the word 'bug'?

"Very well, I'll have a medical team dispatched immediately."

"No! No, Lizzie, a team won't be necessary." Again with the nicknames; something was definitely not right. "I know how Bates and Markham and all the other medics like to trail along behind Carson, but we really only need him for the time being." Bates and Markham weren't medics, and Rodney knew that very well. "And I know it can be hard to track Carson down sometimes, but if you could just trace him down and have him jump on over here, we would really appreciate it." And there it was again, that small inflection on 'track' and 'trace' and 'jump'. "After all, he's got the best diagnostic skills of any of them; it must be something in his genes."

Okay, there was definitely something wrong. "I understand, Rodney." And although she didn't know why, she thought she did understand what he was asking her to do. "I'll get Carson over there as soon as he can put a field kit together. Do you need anything else?"

"Yes, is Lt. Ford handy?"

Lt. Ford? Well, she thought she had understood. He was still on Corridon. She was just about to say that, when Aiden came across the radio.

"Dr. McKay, I'm here. How are you and the Major doing with the negotiations?"

She heard a sigh of relief from Rodney. "Oh, you know, it was rough there for a while, but I think we've come to at least a tentative agreement. Major Sheppard decided to play hardball on a few key items and that cost him a little, but all in all we've come out of it okay."

"Good to hear."

"Yes, well, I just wanted to make sure you and Teyla had made it back to Atlantis all in one piece."

Elizabeth's frown deepened. This was definitely bad. The team was separated and whoever was monitoring the conversation thought Aiden and Teyla were back on Atlantis, and Rodney and the Lieutenant were doing everything to ensure they continued to believe that.

"We're fine, made one final stop at the Magistrate's office before we left, just to say goodbye to a few people. We found out some interesting things about the residential area of the city, some of the houses intrigued Teyla. She's looking forward to getting back to Corridon and doing a little exploration of the area, you know what an architecture buff she is."

"Really!" He sounded almost excited by the prospect. "It's not Frank Lloyd Wright, but I can see why she might be interested. I think that would be an excellent idea." There was a small, "Ow!" then a hurried, "But of course, that will have to wait until we resolve the issue with Major Sheppard."

"Sure, no problem, Doc."

"Okay, well, I've got to get going here. Liz, just send Carson over and we'll meet him at the gate."

"Very well, Rodney. Weir out."

The wormhole dissipated and Elizabeth turned to Peter. "Okay, either Rodney just sent us a coded message telling us to send Carson over because he needs his ATA gene and we need to bug him so that Markham can fly a jumper with Bates' security team and track him to their location, or one of us is loosing our minds."

* * *

It had been Teyla who had eventually put two and two together and come up with the requisite four. The more Aiden and she delved into the work of the Magistrate's daughter, the more obvious it became that she was working with her grandfather. 

"Alma," Teyla had finally said with regret, "I am sorry if this offends you, but I do not believe your daughter is in any danger."

Alma had sunk to her seat. "I think you are correct and as relieved as I am that Rowan is probably safe, I cannot help but feel distressed as well."

Aiden could understand that sentiment. There couldn't be much worse than realizing you had been played the chump by your own father and daughter.

They had learned that Rowan had been working at a sort of archeological site on another planet; a temple with several Ancient's artifacts. Through the frequent communications she had with her mother, Rowan had told her that one piece in particular had the team very excited. She had been vague, and looking back, Alma realized that had been odd. Well, hind sight's twenty-twenty, they say. Although, Rowan had mentioned that it could hold the secret to defeating the Wraith threat forever. Over several months time, the excitement changed to frustration. Rowan's weekly visits became less frequent, often going several weeks without contacting home. When her parent's had confronted her with her unexplained absences, she had told them she had been going to spend time with her grandfather, a sort of mini-vacation.

Telmun, it ended up, had always been a kind of archeological buff and his stories and books were probably what inspired Rowan to study antiquities in the first place. He believed that the Ancient's technology would be the only way that the Wraith would be defeated and felt that Cowen's insistence that the Genii build bombs of their own was a waste of time and effort that could be better spent searching out the Ancient devices. His belief in this area seemed to border on religious obsession and his emersion in this pursuit was one of the main reasons Alma had severed her ties with her father.

After they had questioned her about her whereabouts, Rowan resumed her weekly visits to Corridon. They were always short, usually just a few hours at a time; just enough to make contact with her parents and check on her home in the residential district. She maintained the residence for when she eventually completed her work at the temple and permanently returned to Corridon, but had basically put most of her belongings that she hadn't taken with her to the research site into storage for safe keeping. Only the larger furniture that couldn't easily be moved to her parent's home remained.

Rowan's last visit had occurred the afternoon that the Atlantis team had arrived. Her mother had told her about the visitors and how excited Garris was to negotiate trade with them. Her original plans had been to stay the remainder of the week to attend the Founder's Celebration that was taking place, however, something had happened at the temple site and she was called away unexpectedly. The next morning, her parent's had received the letter saying she was being held. At the time, they had assumed Cowen had arranged for her to be called back to the offworld site, but now, they had come to believe she went on her own accord to notify her grandfather that Rodney McKay, someone who knew more about Ancient's technologies than anyone else, was sitting on Corridon.

Teyla considered the information for a moment, then Aiden noticed a look of realization dawn across her face; a real light bulb moment. "Telmun said he was familiar with the residential area" she told Aiden, "when he was making arrangements to meet Dr. McKay."

The light bulb went off for Aiden as well. "Rowan's house. He's holding them at her house."

Teyla turned excitedly to Alma and Garris, "We need directions to your daughter's home and, if possible, clothes so that we may blend with the general population."

"Of course," Alma offered.

Aiden cocked his head in the direction of the two bound Genii that sat on the floor. "What about them?"

"My personal guards will see to them," Garris offered.

Aiden scratched his head sheepishly, remembering the two men they had left unconscious under the tree in the courtyard. "Oh, right, about them…"

Before he could explain further, his radio crackled to life in his ear.

"Atlantis, this is McKay, do you copy?"

"Rodney, we were starting to get worried, you were due back half and hour ago."

"Yes, well, we ran into a little snag on our side."

He and Teyla listened carefully, relieved that Dr. McKay was okay, and understanding that he was requesting backup in the form of Dr. Beckett and a cloaked jumper. Aiden wished he could find out how Major Sheppard was and tell Dr. McKay they had a pretty good idea where he was being held. Then McKay gave him his chance.

"Yes, is Lt. Ford handy?"

He almost missed it, Teyla elbowed him hard and he responded. "Dr. McKay, I'm here. How are you and the Major doing with the negotiations?"

"Oh, you know, it was rough there for a while, but I think we've come to at least a tentative agreement. Major Sheppard decided to play hardball on a few key items and that cost him a little, but all in all we've come out of it okay."

Teyla smiled brightly then and he closed his eyes in relief; they were both alive. "Good to hear."

"Yes, well, I just wanted to make sure you and Teyla had made it back to Atlantis all in one piece."

Now to try to let him know they were on their way. "We're fine, made one final stop at the Magistrate's office before we left, just to say goodbye to a few people. We found out some interesting things about the residential area of the city, some of the houses intrigued Teyla. She's looking forward to getting back to Corridon and doing a little exploration of the area, you know what an architecture buff she is."

"Really! It's not Frank Lloyd Wright, but I could see why she might be interested. I think that would be an excellent idea. Ow! But of course, that will have to wait until we resolve the issue with Major Sheppard."

He frowned at the small expression of pain, worried that Telmun may have caught on to the true meaning of their conversation. "Sure, no problem, Doc." And then, with a final request for Beckett, McKay was gone.

Aiden found he couldn't hold back his grin anymore than Teyla could. "Atlantis is sending backup," she beamed.

"Yeah, let's go stake out this house before they get here."

* * *

Carson stood on the stairs to the control room, chewing on a thumb nail as Dr. Zelenka finished the work on his stethoscope. 

"It is a simple homing beacon," Radek told him as he snapped the diaphragm and rim assembly back on the instrument. "It is very small. No one should notice it even if they disassemble it. But Sgt. Bates will be able to track you by it, so try to keep it close."

Dr. Weir walked up beside him, "Are you ready, Doctor?"

"No, not really, but no use delaying the inevitable."

She placed a hand on his shoulder. "We could still send someone else; try to pass off Sgt. Markham as you, seeing as he has the ATA gene as well. Hope that whoever is keeping the Major and Doctor from returning won't know the difference."

_Tempting_, he thought, but shook his head with a sigh. "No, I have a feeling they really do need a doctor. Rodney wouldn't have made the call if Major Sheppard were able to do it himself."

She frowned, "Unfortunately, I agree."

They all looked up as the jumper bay door slid open and Jumper One sunk into the embarkation room. "I have reset Sgt. Bates' radio to Frequency Three." Zelenka informed them. "You will just have to let Lt. Ford know that, so that he can reprogram his radio and hopefully make contact with the security team. No one monitoring Rodney's radio on Frequency One will be able to hear them."

Elizabeth nodded her understanding and Radek keyed his radio. "Sgt. Bates, this is radio check on Frequency Three, do you copy?"

"Reading you five by five, Doctor. We're ready to commence."

Elizabeth keyed her own earpiece. "As soon as the wormhole establishes, you are clear to embark Jumper One. We have no idea what you will find on the other side, but in stealth mode, any one waiting with Dr. McKay shouldn't be able to detect you. Dr. Beckett will follow immediately after."

"Copy that," Markham responded.

"Be careful and bring them home safe."

"That's the plan," Bates assured her.

"Dial the Corridon home world," Elizabeth directed Peter. As the chevrons began engaging, Jumper One wavered, and then disappeared. Carson was always torn whenever he saw that; the child-like fascination that had drawn him to medicine in the first place, the part that just wanted to say 'cool!' whenever it happened, battled with the practicality of his adult self that just wanted to say, 'now that's just wrong, transportation devices shouldn't just up and vanish like that'.

The final chevron locked, and Elizabeth gave his shoulder a squeeze. "Good luck." He gave her a small nervous smile with a nod and received the same in return from Radek.

The wormhole whooshed into existence and from the control panel Peter called, "Jumper One, you have a go."

A small ripple on the surface was the only indication that the craft had exited the room. Elizabeth keyed her radio. "Dr. McKay, this is Atlantis."

"Go ahead, Liz. Is Carson on his way?"

"Dr. Beckett will be there momentarily. We just had a problem with some interference on your last radio transmission and wanted to check Frequency Three. Are you reading us okay, now?"

"Uh, yes, you're coming through loud and clear."

"Great, Carson is heading your way now."

With a final indrawn breath, Carson shouldered his pack and picked up his medical field kit. The only thing he hated more than flying the jumpers was traveling through the gate; quite simply, it made him want to puke. The surface glimmered and rippled eerily before him, waiting to break him down into his individual molecules so that they could be whipped across the expanse of space and reassembled on the Corridon home planet. Again, the thought 'that's just wrong' came to mind. He closed his eyes and stepped into the swirling roller coaster ride that was stargating. A millisecond later, his foot hit solid ground and he stumbled slightly from the disorientation that always accompanied such a trip.

He opened his eyes to see four armed Genii standing just off the steps to the gate platform. About ten meters away stood another dozen Genii along with Rodney and a very battered Major Sheppard. He noted several small bandages on his face, quite a bit of visible bruising and a crude sling supporting his left arm. A little further down the road sat a small enclosed conveyance, possible a delivery truck of sorts, with an alien bipedal animal harnessed to the cart and munching on a low shrub near the road. The guards at the steps moved toward him and he lowered his case so that he could raise his hands. McKay started forward then, a life signs detector in his hand, with the Major resting his right hand on Rodney's shoulder, using him as a human crutch.

"Hold it, right there," Rodney told the guards and with a glance at the detector in his hand, they stopped. When he and the Major reached the bottom of the stairs, Rodney punched a few buttons on the device, and with a satisfied, "There!" he smiled. "Glad you could make it, Carson. Just do me a favor and stay within fifteen feet of me at all times. I would hate to explode today." Major Sheppard simply rolled his eyes, but said nothing.

Carson bent and picked up his field kit, "Christ all mighty, Rodney. What have you gotten me into this time?"

* * *

John rested his throbbing skull back against the wall of the Corridon equivalent of a van truck, but found the jarring of the cobblestone road only added to his pain. For a second he was tempted to lay his head on McKay's shoulder, but the previous night's shock of waking up to find Rodney leaning over him quickly chased away that idea. _Not going there_, he thought, before grabbing Beckett's pack as a makeshift pillow and stretching out as best he could on the floor. McKay made room, without comment, by moving over to sit beside Carson. 

"Doc, please tell me you brought something stronger than Tylenol with you." He had gone through every one of the little packets of the OTC painkiller McKay had in his pack and he might as well have just been eating the peppermints from the MREs.

He heard rummaging beside him and Carson placed a small pink pill in his hand. "Here, not the strongest I could give you, but I won't pull out the big guns until I can at least examine you more thoroughly."

He washed it down with the canteen Rodney handed him and closed his eyes again. The bumpy road was the last thing his body needed, but the cart was better than the alternative; walking two plus miles to the gate. There was no way in hell he could have done that. Still, McKay had been right. They had to be there when the Doc came through the gate to ensure the Genii didn't try to use him the way they had used John, and he couldn't stay behind if Rodney's little fifteen-foot ruse was going to continue to work. So, the Genii had found a truck, of sorts, completely enclosed so the prisoners couldn't see where they were going, and pulled along by some sort of kangaroo-ostrich-horse creature-thing. It was like someone had taken Garanimal labels and Elmer's glue and gone to town. He had no idea what they called the animal, but was glad Ford wasn't there to give it his own name.

In his shut-eyed darkness, he felt Beckett move over and lift the bandage on his injured shoulder. He flinched away from the touch. "Sorry, lad, I just need to check this out." Oh, how could you not trust a man who calls you 'lad'? The physician continued his probing, complete with mumbled angry curses, and John gritted his teeth through the ordeal.

"Do you really need to do that, Carson?" Rodney asked squeamishly from the direction of John's feet.

"Did you suddenly acquire a medical degree while I wasn't looking, Rodney? Did Hippocrates himself descend and bestow it upon your fat head?"

He knew Beckett was only lashing out because of his outrage over the physical damage that Telmun had done to John's body, but what the good doctor didn't understand was the psychological damage that the knife had carved into the two of them. John shook his head and addressed the physician, "Just let it go, Doc."

Realizing he had ventured into unfamiliar territory, Beckett changed the subject. "Okay, would you like to fill me in on just why you found it so important that I join you in your own personal hostage crisis, now?" John could hear the doctor rummaging through his kit as he asked the question.

"We need a third ATA gene," Rodney told him quietly. John's head was thankful that the conversation had turned to a topic that would require lowered voices.

"So, the Genii are checking DNA before they take you captive these days, are they?" John felt an alcohol wipe on his arm and opened his eyes to see Carson preparing a hypodermic needle. "That shoulder doesn't look good, Major. I'm administering some antibiotics." John nodded then grimaced slightly at the pinprick. Compared to what he had endured the last few days, it felt like little more than the brush of a feather.

"No, they don't know we need a third gene. They just think you're here to take care of the Major."

"As I bloody well should be; the man is a mess. What exactly happened to you anyway?"

John didn't move from his position on the floor. "The Genii and I had a disagreement on whether McKay here should help them or not."

"I take it they won."

"Well, let's just say we called it a draw. Rodney, show him your latest invention. You're going to love this, Doc."

John lay on the pack and waited for Beckett's response. "Is that what I think it is?"

"It's a bomb I made with C-5."

Carson lowered his voice even further to a frantic whisper. "That's chewing gum or I'm the Queen Mum! Have you lost complete use of the good sense God saw fit to give you?"

John started to chuckle, then placed his arm over his face when the thrumming in his head escalated.

"Oh, sure, laugh it up. But I just want to point out one thing, Major, you're still breathing. If it wasn't for my little creativity under pressure here, Telmun would have moved on to demonstrating filleting and you know it."

John removed his arm and lifted his head so that he could regard the sulking physicist. "You're right." And he was. He had no doubt in his mind that he would have been dead within minutes of Rodney arriving if the scientist hadn't come up with his little con game. They would have done it for no other reason than to show McKay that they meant business. He had to admit, the man had _cojones_ of steel to pull off that little Wriggles Spearmint deception of his.

"Well, of course I'm…what? What did you say?"

"I said you're right. You saved my life and I owe you big time."

"Oh…then, in that case, don't mention it."

"I won't. Just try not to let it go to your head; it's crowed enough in here without making room for your ego as well."

Rodney was silent for a minute, then asked with concern, "Are you feeling better, Major? Did Carson's little magical med help?"

Oh, hell, he knew he shouldn't have said anything. The only thing worse than a pouting McKay was a mother hen McKay. He should have known that telling the man that he had saved his life would have made him feel responsible for maintaining it. "Not really, but I don't think it's had time to kick in yet."

"You're probably right. Is there anything I can do?"

"No."

"Anything to make you more comfortable?"

"No."

"How about propping your feet up? Carson, would propping his feet up help?"

"McKay, I just thanked you for saving me, I would hate to have to kill you so soon after something like that."

Although he still had his eyes closed, he could have sworn he could feel the daggers Rodney was glaring into him. "Fine, you just lie there and wallow in pain. See if I care."

Ah, much better. Once he had successfully pissed Rodney off to a more comfortable emotional distance, he decided to find out how the man's little veiled message had been received on Atlantis. "So did Weir follow what our Navajo code talker here had to say?"

McKay glowered at him, "Like you could have done any better."

Actually, he doubted that he could have, but after the last response he had gotten for giving Rodney a compliment, he'd be damned if he would admit it.

"She got the gist of it," Beckett informed them. "As we speak, there is a cloaked security detail tracking a little beacon Radek slipped into my equipment. If Lt. Ford understood the message, he should be changing radio frequencies and talking to Sgt. Bates right now."

"How many men?" John asked.

"Six in the jumper."

"And if they can meet up with Ford and Teyla, they'll have a force of eight." John considered the team's options.

Rodney must have been thinking along the same lines as John, because he asked him, "Will that be enough to secure the building or will they just come in for a rapid extraction?"

"I don't know. I'm not sure how many guards are in the building we're being held in and who exactly the Corridons are backing in this whole mess. Without their support, or at least non-involvement, there is no way our guys will be able to openly attack the house, which would mean in and out as quickly and quietly as possible."

"That means we wouldn't be able to take the box with us." Rodney seemed more alarmed by that possibility than a small battle taking place outside their prison door.

"In all likelihood," John agreed.

"Well, that's unacceptable," Rodney told him. "We can't just leave it for the Genii."

"Leave what?" Beckett asked.

John ignored Carson's question. He knew exactly where McKay's train of thought was heading and didn't like the destination. "We don't even know where it goes, exactly, or even if the Genii could use anything they find if they could get it to work."

"Get what to work?" the physician asked again.

"That's not the point, Major. It may be the key to defeating the Wraith. I won't let something this potentially important just slip through our fingers."

Carson looked from Rodney to John to Rodney again. "Let what slip through our fingers?"

"So what do you suggest we do, McKay?"

"We do what we had planned to do to all along; we find the 'well of thought'."

"What's a 'well of thought'?"

John shook his head. "That was the plan before it looked like we might get out of here. We have a strike team ready to break us out and take us home. I won't risk your and the Doc's lives for a maybe."

"Major, if we don't go and at least see what this is, you are risking all the lives on Atlantis."

"Okay, I'm very fond of my life," Carson told them, "How exactly are you risking it?"

John let out a frustrated growl and regretted it the instant hammers pounded behind his eyeballs. Leave it to McKay to play the save Atlantis card. "Fine, but we do it fast, before the team has time to hit. I figure they will at least wait until dark if they are coming in covert."

Rodney smiled smugly, "Of course, Major."

"I'm serious, McKay, in and out, a quick look around and then we're out of there."

"I wouldn't want it any other way."

Carson massaged his temples. "Would someone please tell me what you are talking about?"

Rodney continued to grin, "Carson, you are going to love it."

John couldn't hold back his own smile at Beckett's worried scowl, "Oh, bloody hell, I am so completely screwed."

* * *

Teyla inclined her head in greeting at another person on the street then leaned in close to Aiden. "Stop fidgeting with the shirt, we are trying to blend in." 

Aiden adjusted the billowing mass of fabric around his shoulders trying to make it sit properly. "I can't help it, I feel like a parachute. How can these people wear clothes like this?"

Teyla really didn't understand Aiden's anxiety, she actually found them quiet comfortable. The Corridon dress consisted of flowing long pants, a fitted sleeveless undershirt and billowing open overshirt that acted almost as a jacket. Aside from the fact that her pants were a little more snug around the waist and her shirt was more form fitting, there was little difference between the men's and women's attire.

"It does not matter how you feel, what matters is that you do not draw attention to yourself."

The Lieutenant nodded with a sigh and tried to walk as casually as he could down the street. Teyla knew the strange clothing was not the only reason Aiden was uncomfortable. Given the garments, they had been forced to leave most of their gear behind at the Magistrate's home, as a P90 was not a common accessory to their outfits. They had been limited to their sidearms, which were concealed under their outer shirts and two knifes each, one on the hip and one in the boot. They also still wore their radios, which were hidden by the hats they wore; hers was more of a floppy sunhat and his was a brimless cap.

Lt. Ford had transferred his radio over to Frequency Three when the message came from Dr. Weir, and he had made contact with Sgt. Bates soon after the team came through the gate. The troops from Atlantis were waiting in the jumper near the gate, as there was really nowhere in the city to set down during the day without notice. Even cloaked, if someone runs into an invisible wall while walking through the park, it tends to attract attention. So, they were monitoring the signal from Dr. Beckett and waiting to see if Ford and Teyla made visual contact.

They had followed the directions provided by Alma to Rowan's house and had been casually strolling the streets in the area for almost and hour. They had observed several Genii entering and exiting the house, so that she believed there were possibly twelve to fifteen men stationed inside the building. A carriage of sorts, pulled by one of the beasts of burden she had observed several times throughout the city, came around a corner and disappeared into an alleyway beside the house.

She placed a hand on the Lieutenant's arm and nodded toward the transport. They crossed the street then and ducked into an alley of their own, one they had scouted earlier and found that they could observe the house from relative seclusion. The late afternoon shadows darkened the alley with the truck so that they couldn't see exactly what was happening, but a call from Sgt. Bates indicated that the signal from Dr. Beckett had stopped.

"It's them," Aiden told her, then he called back on the radio, "Bates, follow the signal so you can see where the house is located. We're in an alley across the street."

"Already ahead of you, Lieutenant; we're right on top of you. By the way, nice threads. Think I can get a set of those? I was thinking of taking up skydiving."

Aiden decided then would be a good time to scratch the top of his head with his middle finger. His action was met with a chuckle from Markham and some of the other men in the jumper. "Markham, see if you can find someplace nearby to set the jumper down. The sun should set in about another hour. The streets stay pretty dark, so you should be able to move back to our location without being seen. We'll rendezvous three blocks north, then move in from there."

"Copy that, Lieutenant. See you in a few."

Teyla leaned back against the wall of the alley. They were so close, every muscle twitched to burst in and break her team members out of their prison. But she understood the need for caution. An additional ten men had come back from the stargate, bringing the number of Genii in the house close to two dozen, give or take. Even with the reinforcements from Atlantis, they were outmanned, three to one. The superior firepower of the Earth weapons would give them an advantage, but they would still need the element of surprise and stealth to make sure everyone got out and back to Atlantis safe.

Aiden looked over at her with a grimace and she knew he was feeling the frustration as much as she. "So, now we wait."

"Yes," she agreed with disappointment, "we wait."

* * *

Carson rotated the Major's shoulder at best he could then with a sigh released it. John's hand went instinctively to the injured appendage and he released his own held breath. "Well, it looks as if you've torn the rotator cuff. Its going to take surgery before you get full movement back." 

From his table of scattered papers, Rodney mumbled, "He didn't tear it; the son of a bitch cut it."

Carson blanched at that, feeling a little weak in the knees himself. What had Rodney gotten him into, indeed? He had only had the distinct displeasure of meeting Telmun briefly at the gate, then he had stopped by again once they had been ushered into their current holding room. He had never threatened him, or anyone else in the room for that matter, but Carson could tell by the confidence that exuded from the man that that could change at the drop of a hat. He had done little more than ask after Major Sheppard's health which had received no more than an icy glare from Rodney and then he inquired about Rodney's progress. Rodney had managed to avoid any answers by criticizing the shoddy work by the Genii researchers and complaining that he basically had to start from scratch. Telmun had assured him that he had every confidence that he would figure out how to operate the device and soon; the unspoken 'or else' lingered dangerously in the air when he left.

Carson cleared his throat and continued briefing the Major on his condition. "Other than that, a mild concussion and the obvious cuts and bruises, some of which will probably leave some rather sexy scars, I think you are okay, relatively speaking. If we were back on Atlantis, I would have you confined to the infirmary with a nice supply of pain meds to keep you comfy and quiet, but here, all I can do is offer some more potent pills than I already gave you. They should help with the pain but they will really knock you for a loop."

"That sure is tempting, Doc, but no can do. Not with a jail break in the near future and a trip through Rodney's magic box."

"I figured as much. Did the Darvocet help any? It was a rather low dose, but better than the over the counter meds you were taking." He helped the Major into a new sling he had produced from his field kit.

"Took the edge off. Don't worry; it's the best I've felt in days."

He tried to smile at the positive spin the Major was putting on his help, but really couldn't. The whole situation was abysmal, from the treatment John had received at the hand of the Genii to the treatment he was denied until Rodney stepped in and demanded it with his fake grenade and genuine outrage. Carson watched the scientist as he shuffled through the papers as he had been doing for almost the whole hour they had been in their storeroom holding cell. He wasn't sure what Rodney was doing, although it had obviously been as much a ruse as his bomb, as Carson had caught him several times intently watching his examination of the Major.

"Major," Rodney directed him without looking up, "take the drugs. You and Carson can stay here. I'll go by myself."

"Not just no, McKay, but hell no. No one is going to any strange planet by themselves."

"Oh, and just what do you plan to do, topple over on anyone who attacks us? Make them dizzy while you sway precariously where you stand?"

"It's more than that, Rodney," Carson told him, "what if Telmun or one of his cronies comes back while you're off traipsing about the galaxy? Kind of puts a big hole in your story if you're gone and there's no explosion."

Rodney frowned then looked at Sheppard who was smirking at the point Beckett had just made. "Hey, you're the one who came with exploding Double Mint, not me."

With a mumbled, "Fine," he went back to his papers.

John leaned back against the wall. "So, McKay, you figured out how to get us back from Ancient Neverland once we get over there?"

"I think so."

"Think?" the Major asked.

"Yes, think, as in use your brain to logically work out problems and come to reasonable solutions. Don't worry, I won't hold it against you that you aren't familiar with such an alien concept."

"And," Carson cut in, "what have you come up with?"

"There are six symbols on the box. I believe those are part of the return address."

Carson furrowed his brow. "I thought we needed seven symbols."

"We do, six symbols to represent the home address and the seventh is the point of origin."

"So, have you figured out the point of origin?" Sheppard asked.

"Maybe, but I need to try something first. I need you two to take your places by the handprints on the box." The two men moved into position as Rodney continued to explain. "There is a passage of text that says something about 'looking to the center in order to begin your return'. I can never tell if these things are just bad interpretations or the Ancients just got their jollies playing elusive and mysterious higher beings. Either way, I have an idea what it might mean."

He nodded and all three touched the handprints before them. As before when just John and Rodney had activated it, the glass box glowed blue and a puddle formed on the side no one was touching. But this time, something was different. In the center of the box, seemingly hovering equidistant between all sides, glowed a seventh symbol.

Major Sheppard let out a breathy, "Cool."

Rodney gave a wide eyed grin. "My sentiments exactly."

And all Carson could think was, _Oh, that's just wrong._

* * *

Aiden poked his head around the corner and watched as Bates led the security team through the shadowed streets of the residential district. Only a few locals remained on the avenue and those that noticed the men glanced around worriedly then quickened their pace. He waved them into the alley and they crouched in the darkness. 

"Welcome to Corridon," he told them.

"Thanks," Bates replied, "looks like a nice place if it wasn't for all the damned Genii running around."

"Yeah, let's see what we can do about that."

He filled them in on what he had Teyla had learned. Alma had provided them with a rough layout of the house. A foyer on the entrance level led to a hallway, with a kitchen and dinning area to the right and a large open front room to the left. Upstairs were three rooms that Rowan used as sleeping quarters and home office space. Below the staircase leading to the second level was a door to the basement level. On that level was a layout similar to the upper story of the house with three rooms; a large storeroom, a laundry room, and a small food cellar. Aiden assumed the basement level was where they were keeping them, it only had the one way in or out through the stairway, and anyone trying to penetrate the house would have to go through most of the men stationed there to reach it. Given the number of men they were talking about, they figured more than half of them were probably bunked in the parlor on the main floor.

"The way I figure it, we've got two choices." He and Teyla had stripped off their outer shirts to give themselves freer movement during the incursion. The evening air was cool but not uncomfortable against the skin of his arms and shoulders exposed by the lightweight undershirt. He and Teyla had chosen the darkest colors available for the clothing in anticipation of their nighttime endeavors. "We can either wait for them to bed down, take out any guards and subdue the remaining sleepers, or we can attack now with a full frontal assault. Either way, we should have surprise and superior firepower on our side."

He looked around the group, to see if anyone had any input for or against either option. Bates, he notices, seemed to be distracted, tapping on the side of a small monitor he was carrying.

Teyla evidently noticed it, too, because she asked, "Sergeant, is there a problem?"

"Yeah, I just lost the signal tracking Dr. Beckett."

* * *

For the first time in his life, Rodney was the first to step out of the worm hole and onto an alien planet. He had come to accept his position nestled safely in the middle of the group, knowing that tactically it made the most sense. After all, the others had reams more combat training than he did. Still, it grated him that his team felt they would always need to surround him in a sort of human barrier against attack. Today, however, that position was reserved for Major Sheppard, and Rodney instinctively reached out and steadied the wobbly man as he stumbled through the gate. He was quickly followed by Carson, not exactly the best person to watch their sixes, but the way Rodney had figured it, if anything jumped out at them on the other side of the puddle, it would be too busy devouring him to bother with the others. 

They seemed to be in a dark room, with only the rippling glow of the stargate to illuminate the way. But as they stepped off the platform, lights snapped on in rapid succession to reveal an enormous warehouse-sized space. The walls were lined with screens similar to those on Atlantis, the bizarre Ancient symbols scrolling lazily across the light blue surfaces. Periodically spaced around the room were control stations, at least fifty of them, each with a smaller display apparently for personal use that showed the same data that slid hypnotically across the larger screens.

Sheppard stepped down two steps then decided to sit. Carson put his field kit down and helped the injured man to the floor. Rodney studied his teammate with concern. He was pale, slightly shaky, possibly feverish, and Rodney realized that neither of them had really slept in at least thirty-six hours. Combined with his injuries, he knew the man was literally on his last leg.

The Major noticed the look and scowled at him with a wave of his hand. "Go. Figure out the mysteries of the universe. You've got ten minutes. That should be more than enough time for the whiz kid you're always claiming to be."

Rodney continued on into the room, noticing a large line of text carved into the floor. "I knew they had to have gotten it wrong."

Carson looked up from his seat next to Sheppard. "What is it?"

"It's not the 'well of thought', ridiculous use of poetic license. It's the 'repository of knowledge'."

Rodney looked around the room in awe. It couldn't be. It just couldn't. Then again… "Oh. My. God."

He moved quickly to the nearest station and whipped out his laptop.

"McKay? Something wrong?"

"No, Major, everything is right. Very, very right."

He quickly interfaced the Earth computer with the Ancient's data port as he had done numerous times on Atlantis and scanned the information spooling rapidly across the screen. He had linked to an index of sorts, a listing of data sources available for retrieval. The list seemed to be never ending, rolling by so fast that he couldn't even read it and after a whole minute, it was still going. He let out a childish giggle of delight.

"Rodney," Carson asked, "what have you found that's got you so giddy?"

"It's an archive. No, no, it's THE archive."

"You mean like the database on Atlantis?" John asked.

"Major, this place makes the database on Atlantis look like the CliffsNotes on Ancient knowledge."

"Wow."

"Wow? Wow? Sheppard, I don't think you realize exactly what this place could mean for us. We could literally find the user's manuals for every piece of equipment we have come across. We could study every tactical strategy the Ancient's employed against the Wraith. We wouldn't have to find a ZedPM, because somewhere in here is how to build one ourselves."

"That'd be cool."

"Oh, you're just trying to piss me off now. But it won't work. I will not let you ruin this discovery for me. I will not, no matter what you do."

"You've got five minutes, McKay, then we have to head back."

"Okay, you just ruined it."

"Sorry, but Ford and his posse should be showing up soon and I really hate being late when people are coming to rescue me."

He knew the Major was right, knew he couldn't stay it this room of wonder. Still, the possibilities, the hope, the…everything that this place offered; it was absolutely mind-boggling. With a final sigh, he peeled his eyes from the still tumbling list of data and began disconnecting and gathering up his belongings and repacking them.

"Okay, as soon as we get the box back to Atlantis, I need to put together a team. I'll lead it of course, and I should probably bring Radek, although someone should stay on Atlantis to make sure everything stays up and running and Kavanaugh doesn't stick his nose into anything important. Maybe we'll rotate through…"

He reached the DHD and started to dial in the address as revealed on the box when Carson reached out a hand and stopped him. "You know, we could just dial straight home to Atlantis, they never took my IDC. The way I had it mixed in with all my other equipment, I don't think they realized what it was." He rummaged in his kit and pulled out the devise.

Rodney shook his head violently. "Oh, no. I will not leave the box now. Not after what I've seen. There is no way I'm letting this baby out of my sight."

Carson seemed to be ignoring him as he continued to stare into his field kit. He pulled out his stethoscope with an embarrassed grimace. "Oops."

"Oops, Carson?" Rodney asked.

"I don't suppose they would be able to track my homing beacon over here would they?"

"No, Carson, it would have pretty much stopped transmitting the second you stepped through the gate."

John shook his head in disbelief and threw up his good arm. "Well, hell, if they loose the signal, they're going to assume the worst. They're probably about to storm the house right now, if they haven't already. Dial it up, McKay, we need to get back."

With a terse nod, Rodney dialed the address. As the wormhole established, the lights clicked off behind them. Carson stepped through the gate, followed by Sheppard. With one final, longing look back, Rodney stepped out of the find of a lifetime and into the line of fire of Telmun's gun.

To his right, he saw two guards each holding Carson and the Major. Two more men stood behind Telmun. Without a word, he fired the gun, and pain exploded through Rodney's lower right abdomen. With wide eyed shock, he collapsed to his knees as Sheppard yelled out, "God damnit!" Carson struggled futilely against his guards, but gave up when they pointed their own revolvers at him.

With slow deliberation, Telmun walked the few steps over to Rodney and picked up his life signs detector. "Don't worry, Doctor, I'm not going to kill you, yet."

No longer able to stay upright, Rodney crumpled the rest of the way to the floor. He pulled his hand up from the wound, staring in wonder at the blood. All he could think was, _I can't believe that son of a bitch just did that._

Telmun signaled the two guards behind him. "Activate it." The two men moved to the box and each touched a side, the box glowed to life and as soon as the event horizon formed, Telmun tossed the fake bomb through the gate. He stood so that he was looking down on Rodney's prone form on the floor. "Now," he told him with a smile, "I'm going to kill you."

* * *

John watched in horror as Telmun moved the gun up so that it was pointing at McKay's head. Rodney just stared at their captor as he cocked the hammer on his pistol. 

"Wait!" John yelled. "Just…wait, I'll show you how it works."

"Major, don't you dare," McKay gritted out between clenched teeth.

John ignored him. "Just let the doctor take care of him, and I'll show you how it works."

Telmun lowered the gun. "Very well, Major. It is so nice to see that at least someone has come to his senses."

The guards released John and Carson and both men skidded to their knees next to McKay. "I need my kit," Carson told him and John turned and retrieved the required equipment. "Rodney, you need to move your hand, lad, so I can see the entry."

Rodney lay and breathed raggedly through his nose, his jaw locked against the pain. When he didn't respond to the Doctor's request, John pulled it away. The bloody hand flew to John's shirt, forming a red fist print as it grasped at the fabric. "You cannot show him the archive, John. You can't. Son of a bitch! Did you see what he did to me?"

John pried the hand away from his shirt and grasped it in his own. "Rodney, calm down. Carson's going to take care of you." Good advise, if only he could follow it himself. His own heart was racing as he looked over at Beckett as he worked. The physician's mouth was tight as he applied a pressure dressing to Rodney's wound.

Carson rolled him over slightly to get a look at his back. The pressure tightened on John's hand and he squeezed back when Rodney gasped in pain. "It looks like the bullet passed through, but he's loosing blood. We need to get him back to Atlantis, now." And he went to work applying another bandage on the exit wound.

John turned to Telmun. "Look, I'll show you how to activate the box, but you have to send Beckett and McKay back to the stargate and let them go back to Atlantis."

"Tell me how to activate it."

"Major, don't do it."

John let out a sigh and squeezed Rodney's hand again. "Sorry, McKay."

"Sheppard, don't."

He ignored McKay and turned back to Telmun. "You need two people to touch the sides."

"We have done that, it doesn't work. Now don't waste my time, or I will shoot the medical doctor as well." He pointed the gun with deliberate calm at Carson.

"No! It only works if you have the correct genetic code. You have to be a descendent of the Ancients to get it to go to the right place. If two people with the Ancient's genes touch the sides, it dials the correct address." He could feel Rodney freeze beside him and he glanced down into eyes widening in realization of what John was doing; sending the bastard into the god damned Roach Motel, that's what.

"And you went there? Did you see the weapon?"

Oh, the man was nuttier than a fruitcake and John planned to play that to his advantage. "We saw it," he lied. "We all have the gene, two of us can activate the gate and you can go see it yourself."

"And how do I get back?"

"We have the return address. I'll write it down for you."

"How can you be sure it doesn't need an Ancient gene to return? No, I think I will take Dr. McKay with me, just to be sure."

"In case you haven't noticed, you shot McKay. He's not going anywhere, and Beckett's staying here to take care of him. If you take anyone, you're taking me."

He seemed to consider for a moment, then nodded. "Very well, activate the devise."

The grip tightened on his hand again and Carson let out a strangled, "Major."

He looked down at McKay with a smirk, "Told you I owed you big time, this should make it even." He lowered his voice to a whisper, placing Rodney's hand back on his chest with a final pat. "Besides if anyone can find a way to bring me back it's you, McKay."

Unless of course it really was a trap and it opened on a gate in orbit or Rodney's pit of poisonous snakes. No use thinking about that now. He had made his decision. With Telmun gone, Rodney and Carson would be fine, that's all that mattered. He stood and went to one side of the box. "Carson, if you would do the honors."

"John, don't do this," Rodney pleaded.

John ignored him. "Carson?"

Beckett looked between the two men, "Are you sure about this, lad?"

_Again with the 'lad'_, he thought, _could you make it any more difficult? _With an indrawn breath of resolve he nodded. Carson frowned but stood and placed his hand on the box. John placed his on the other side and it glowed to life. He noted with irony that Rodney's blood on his hand formed a visible handprint to mimic the invisible one on the glassy surface.

Telmun ordered the first guard through the portable gate then motioned to John. He suddenly felt glued to the spot, unable to move forward. A second guard pulled him by the arm so that he stood before the opening. He avoided looking at both Rodney and Carson and prepared to step through when he heard a commotion from outside the door.

The guard that stood behind him turned as well, and John heard a muffled "Fire in the hole."

_Ford!_ _Talk about perfect timing_.

The charge was small, just enough for the door and frame to explode inward. The form of Sgt. Bates appeared through the dust, P90 raised and the order of "Down! Down! On the ground!" sprung from his lips.

The guard that was now in front of John raised his gun and Bates fired a short controlled burst into his chest. The man toppled backward so that John had to raise his good arm to block the body, and instead caught it in his decent. The weight of the man crashed into him and his already wobbly legs could no longer support both himself and the guard.

Somewhere off to his side, he could hear Rodney chanting "No. No. No, no, nonononono!" As if by repeating the denial progressively faster and louder he could stop the inevitable.

But John couldn't seem to cease his backward momentum. With an exclaimed, "Oh, Shit!" he staggered back and was swallowed by the shimmer of the event horizon.

* * *

He was just amazed how quickly things tended to go all pear-shaped when he spent any amount of time with John and Rodney. 

When the explosions and shooting started in earnest, Carson didn't know whether to cheer or scream. He had compromised by throwing himself to floor and curling up in a ball next to Rodney. But when the injured man had started yelling "No," next to him, he decided he should probably see what immediate concern had him all riled up. He looked up to see Major Sheppard and the Genii guard disappear into the stargate. Well, that definitely wasn't good.

The shooting had stopped, although there was a lot of yelling going on on the other side of the room. With a quick glance over he saw Lt. Ford and Teyla had entered the room, guns in hand, and two other Atlantis personnel were standing just outside the doorway. They appeared to be in some sort of standoff with the remaining Genii. On the floor beside him, Rodney had managed to roll to his stomach and was half crawling, half pulling himself away.

"Carson, help me."

He got on all fours and placed a halting hand on Rodney's shoulder. "Just stay down. It will all be over shortly," he assured him.

"No, help with the legs."

_What?_ Then he realized that Rodney wasn't trying to make it to the door, he was heading for the stargate and the booted feet of the Genii guard who Sgt. Bates had shot that were sticking out of the watery surface.

With monumental effort, Rodney heaved himself up to his knees. He hissed in pain and clutched at the bandages on his side, then grabbed one foot and started to pull with a groan. Carson crawled around to the other foot and started pulling, as well.

"Would you mind telling me why we are doing this?" The guard's hips appeared, freakishly suspended in the middle of the puddle, as if he were going through the gate doing the limbo.

Rodney released his hold on the boot, leaned forward and grabbed a handful of Genii pants. "Because, Carson, matter that enters a wormhole in a discreet package…" He leaned back, biting down on the moan of pain, and using his own weight to pull the body further out of the event horizon.

Carson pulled as well, and watched as the man's upper body came into view, and then he saw his answer for why. Major Sheppard's arm appeared wrapped around the guard's chest. "Bloody hell," he breathed and resumed his hold on the Genii. With a final tug, John plopped out and tumbled forward along with the guard's body to land in a heap on top of Rodney and Carson.

"…exits in a discreet package," Rodney finished as he lay panting on the floor. Behind them, the wormhole flashed out of existence, leaving the solid glass column.

Sheppard looked around for a second in bewilderment then rolled off the pile of people to land prone on his back next to Rodney. He winced as he jarred his injured shoulder. "Damnit, McKay, I just even up the score and you have to go and put me in debt again."

Carson pushed the dead body off of him and Rodney with a shiver of what could only be described as the willies. Rodney grimaced in pain and stared at the ceiling in exhaustion. "Oh, God…no one every told me…physics would be…so death defying."

Carson laughed, wondering if maybe he had lost his mind, but he was so pleased to have Sheppard back he didn't really care. John and Rodney chuckled as well, but soon stopped with mirrored exclamations of "Ow!"

From across the room, a very angry Teyla demanded, "Where is Major Sheppard?"

Still flat on the floor, John raised a hand, as if answering roll in a classroom. "Here."

Then everything went pear-shaped again.

* * *

Aiden turned his head as the door exploded down the hall. Bates rushed the room first, yelling for the Genii to drop, then released a short burst of gunfire. He and Teyla entered behind the Sergeant, with Markham and Smith providing cover from the door. The rest of the team was covering the remaining Genii on the first floor and the stairway leading down into the basement. 

Aiden looked to his right, seeing Beckett and a bandaged McKay on the floor beside a…mini-stargate? He scanned the room quickly for the Major, but couldn't find him. To his left five Genii were standing, still holding weapons. Bates was yelling for them to drop the guns and the four younger Genii were looking to the older one for direction.

"I said, drop your weapons!"

The men held their ground .

"You're not going anywhere," Aiden told them, "Just put down the guns and we can all walk out of here."

With a smirk, the older man dropped his firearm and the others followed suite. _Telmun_, Aiden thought.

Evidently Teyla had come to the same conclusion because she advanced on the man, "Where is Major Sheppard?"

From off to the right, he heard the Major respond, "Here."

Everyone turned to the voice in surprise. When had he just magically appeared?

Teyla lowered her gun and took a relieved yet shocked step toward the men on the floor, "Major, are you all right?"

With a speed Aiden never would have expected from someone so old, Telmun grabbed Teyla and put a knife to her throat.

"Now, I think you should drop your guns," he told the Atlantis team as he moved her toward what had been the miniature stargate but which now looked like a big chunk of glass.

Aiden had finally had enough. First Telmun had tortured Major Sheppard, from the looks of it he had also gone to work on Dr. McKay, and now he was threatening Teyla. Right then and there, he decided the mother fucker had messed with the wrong team and the wrong marine. He held his sidearm with steady resolve. "Let her go."

Telmun flashed a smile. "I'm sorry, but I don't think that would be a wise decision on my part."

With a sneer, Teyla grumbled, "Foolish old man," then in one fluid move pulled the blade at her hip and plunged it behind her and into Telmun's side. The man's eyes widened and his grip on his own knife loosened so that his hostage pushed his arm away. Teyla pivoted, planted her foot on his stomach and yanked her knife free.

Seizing the opening, Aiden fired his 9mm, taking deliberate steps forward with each squeeze of the trigger. He could hear Dr. McKay yelling for him to stop shooting, but he couldn't seem to comply with that request until he emptied his clip and the action locked in place.

Teyla's kick combined with Aiden's gunshots had pushed Telmun back against the glass column. He seemed to hang suspended for a few seconds then slumped lifeless to the floor, leaving behind a bloody smear and the radial crack of bullet holes on the previously flawless surface.

* * *

"Rodney, for the last time, the medical staff is not here to act as your personal courier service. If you try to send any of them on an errand again, I swear I will loose your last blood workup and require a new set be drawn…with a very thick needle." 

Rodney sat in his bed in the medical bay on Atlantis and glared at Carson. "I wouldn't have to ask any of your staff to help me if you would just give me back my radio. I swear, Carson, even prisoners get to make one phone call."

"One, yes; twenty-three in an hour, no."

"Then, just let me go down to the lab, just for a little while, long enough to check and see if Radek has had any luck getting the box to work."

They hadn't been able to get the box to function since the one side had been damaged by the gunshots three days prior. In what had so far been a futile effort, Rodney had the science team attempting to figure out how the box was programmed so that they could download the addresses that it automatically dialed. He had never been so frustrated in his life. Just knowing that the answers to just about everything were out there in a very specific, yet hidden, somewhere was slowly driving him insane.

"Rodney, you were shot. Did you hear me? Shot. A little piece of metal, traveling at an alarming rate of speed, tore completely through your insides, causing all sorts of mischief along the way, and exited violently out the back of you. Not only was that a very traumatic event for me to witness, it was a very traumatic event for your body to experience."

"But I feel so much better. You've done a great job patching me up…"

"Do you think I like having you here? Do you think I like having my nurses drawing straws to see who has to come look after you? All you do is cause chaos whenever you are in here and we all look forward to the day when you can finally be set loose out into the wilds and become a burden on the general populace again. So, believe me when I tell you, the second you are fit enough to be released, you will be released. But, not before."

Rodney opened his mouth to speak again, but was interrupted by a sleepy giggle from the bed next to his. Major Sheppard regarded him with slitted eyes, "The wild Canadian McKay as part of the Atlantean catch and release program." He giggled again and Rodney turned back to Carson.

"Okay, I know I'm not the medical doctor here, but Carson, seriously, you need to cut back on the pain meds for Sheppard."

"He just came out of surgery on his shoulder two hours ago. He's going to be a little disoriented, it's to be expected."

"Disoriented is one thing, but this? The man is an amazing pilot, but even he usually needs a jumper to be flying this high."

John let out a contented sigh. "I love to fly. And I love the jumper." He smiled drunkenly at the two other men, "And I love you guys, too."

Rodney raised his eyebrows and pointed at Sheppard in a silent gesture of 'you see what I mean?' Carson crossed his arms and grimaced. "Maybe I should go and check the dosage of those pain killers." And he left the room with a final warning, "I'm serious, Rodney, leave my staff alone."

Rodney raised his voice to be heard by the retreating doctor. "Who would have ever guessed that the sheep drenched hills of Scotland could have produced such a totalitarian individual?"

John turned back to Rodney. "Pain killers are my friends."

"Sure they are," Rodney patronized as he leaned back in his bed. "There's nothing like morphine to make the day disappear in a psychedelic haze."

"You're my friend, too, McKay."

"After all the crap we've been through, I should hope so."

"You saved my life. Twice." As if to stress the point, he held up two fingers.

"Yes, well, I only had to do it because you were attempting to save my life. I suppose I should thank you for that. Although, ultimately you were unsuccessful and I had to bail you out, but…A for effort, I guess." He awkwardly gave the Major two thumbs up with a tight smile. He was rewarded in turn with a jaunty two finger salute from Sheppard.

He just stared at the man, unsure how to respond to such a gesture. The whole conversation was making him uncomfortable. Not that he was the touchy feely type, but Sheppard was _never_ this open emotionally and he hoped to hell that he wouldn't remember it after he roused from his drug-induced stupor. John's eyes drifted closed and he was silent for moment and Rodney hoped he had finally slipped back off into sleep and would wake his normal cranky, argumentative self. That he could handle; actually enjoyed.

Satisfied that the Major was asleep, he turned his thoughts back to how to escape the infirmary and visit the lab. Ford or Teyla should be coming by to visit soon; maybe he could get one of them…

"McKay?" called the drowsy voice from across the way.

With a feeling of dread he responded, "Yes, Major?"

"Are you sure you've never been to Mardi Gras?"

(A/N Complete! Also, sorry, but to paraphrase a slogan I'm very familiar with, "What happens in New Orleans, Stays in New Orleans!")


End file.
